


In the Heart of Things

by Jenn_Harper



Series: Another Kind of Odyssey [4]
Category: Ancient History RPF, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Belonging, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Historical, Historical References, Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Recovery, Romance, War, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, thalexios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenn_Harper/pseuds/Jenn_Harper
Summary: 412BCE. Reunited after a difficult year, Alexios and Thaletas have been sent to Chios by King Agis to keep an eye on the situation there as the theatre of the Peloponnesian War shifts eastwards, into the islands.There, they will discover more than they could have bargained for about themselves and their people, and what it is that lies at the heart of things...This work uses mostly characters from the game, though some are more fully fleshed out than they were in the game (I'm looking at you, Pelias and Boros!) and of course, there are also a few creations of my own too - for better or worse!I've tried to stick to events as they happened historically, too, because I'm a history nerd... and as before, I’ll include footnotes in case anyone's interested :)Happy reading! :)
Relationships: Alexios/Thaletas (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Another Kind of Odyssey [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868671
Comments: 46
Kudos: 21





	1. Chios

The Adrestia came in to dock near the Huntress’ Village on Chios Island on one of the first days of summer. The sky was bright blue and clear, and a warm breeze blew off the island into their faces. Alexios glanced warmly at Thaletas, who stood beside him on the bridge, and their eyes met. Alexios had a smile playing on his lips as they shared a moment. Chios was special to them. Here, only two seasons after they'd rediscovered their love for one another in Sparta, they had finally felt the shreds of that first, cautious love solidify into something much more settled – though, Alexios thought, their relationship had never stopped shifting and changing since then; many times in the passing years he'd wondered if it could possibly last, because surely such happiness, such consuming bliss, was some kind of blasphemy; but if the gods saw it as such, they'd been good enough to turn a blind eye most of the time.  
It was also here that Alexios had cut off Thaletas’ Spartan braid, and Alexios saw that he was thinking of that as he ran a hand across the back of his head, ruffling his own hair.  
He saw that Alexios had noticed, and gave him a crooked smile.  
Alexios said, ‘You could always grow it back?’  
Thaletas shook his head with a grin. ‘You have no idea what a bother it was.’  
Barnabas, who was standing beside them looking ashore, said, ‘We've made good time, commander.’ He glanced at Alexios and then away again. He looked anxious, the lines of his face were deeper than they had ever been; and well he might, Alexios thought, as they waited for the ship to dock.  
Leda had made her home on the island after a short stay with Neleus on Thasos, having taken the brave decision to give up on going back to her mother’s farm for the foreseeable future, and to make a fresh start again somewhere new. Chios had seemed a sensible choice. Leda was on good terms with the Daughters of Artemis through Alexios, so she would have their support; and in worldly terms, Chios was noted for its reasonable, moderate governance. It was the only island in all the Greek world which could boast to have been untouched by war since well before Xerxes had marched into Greece, bent on conquest, nearly seventy years earlier.  
Thaletas and Alexios had stayed in Sparta for the winter, so they'd been there when ambassadors from Chios had arrived with offers of defecting from the Delian League if they could secure Spartan support. Urged by the ephor Endius and, lurking in the shadows behind him, Alcibiades, the Spartans had backed the Chians with the proviso that no action would be taken until they had confirmed that Chios could provide ships for the upcoming campaigning season. This had naturally caused a delay, as did the celebration of the Isthmian Games at Korinthia.  
Sparta should have foreseen the results of the delay: Athens of course got wind of the impending defection of Chios, and it had followed that they were watching the seas when spring arrived. The first twenty-one Korinthian ships sent across the Isthmus, with the intention that they would sail straight past Athens to Chios, had been cornered and blockaded on the coast of Boeotia, where they still were. Typically, this set-back had made the Spartans dither about sending the other twenty ships, and Chios had been left in a kind of limbo.  
Alexios had been worried about the potential for trouble on the island, so when Agis had sent for them from Dekelia towards the end of winter, he'd been prepared to tell him he didn't want the job, whatever it was, knowing that Barnabas would want to remain on the island with his daughter until the danger was past, and he wouldn’t leave them to their fate if things did get messy.  
They’d reached Agis on the first wet days of spring. The king's return to the fortified village at the end of autumn, against his stated intentions, had prompted a lot of gossip and speculation in Sparta, most of which Alexios could safely presume was untrue - unlike the rumour that Agis had quit his wife’s bed. It was said that this had been for religious reasons, supposedly because a portentous earthquake had occurred just as he was doing his duty by his wife; but Alexios knew that if there had been upheavals, they were not of Poseidon’s making.  
When Stentor had announced to the family that he was going with the king to Dekelia, Alexios had looked at him with a question in his eyes, to which Stentor had given an almost imperceptible nod. He'd later told Alexios that there had been a confrontation between the King and Alcibiades - who denied any wrongdoing, of course - and Agis had decided the best thing to do was to return to the north, avoiding open enmity with the Athenian and his clique of influential Spartans.  
Agis had always been direct in his requests, and he’d soon told them what he needed: a set of trusted eyes on Chios to keep him informed of the progress of the intended defection. The split between the two sides of Spartan politics couldn't have been worse timed. The people of Euboea and Lesbos had approached Agis directly with their requests to defect, while the Chians had gone to Sparta; therefore, the Chian defection was being handled by the ephors and Pleistoanax back in Sparta, who made no secret of their discontent with Agis. They’d overruled his decision to help Lesbos first; he therefore needed to know as soon as Chios had been secured. He intended to keep his promises to Lesbos as soon as he possibly could.  
Of course, Alexios and Thaletas had readily taken the job, neither objecting to being paid for going where they would have gone anyway.  
As soon as the ship had been tied off, Alexios said to Barnabas, ‘Go. We’ll meet you there.’  
Barnabas didn’t need to be told twice, and he ducked away.  
Alexios watched him leave, and then noticed the ships lieutenants with heads bowed together, talking very earnestly down on the deck, gesturing after Barnabas. Alexios walked over to them and asked, ‘What’s going on?’  
Boros the Great Deceiver - a short, shaved headed ex-leader of Boeotia – who usually acted as the spokesman for the four of them, said, ‘Pelias was just saying…’  
Pelias the Seductive had flushed as soon as Alexios had come over to the group. He was an intensely good-looking man, with dark hair and a dark beard, and a figure that Adonis must have envied. He interrupted Boros, ‘I can speak for myself!’  
Boros looked at him with a frown, but said, ‘Alright, speak then!’  
‘I don’t need your permission,’ Pelias said abruptly, and Boros threw his hands in the air in exasperation and walked away, Phylas and Neokles going with him. When they were alone, Pelias said, ‘I was just asking whether I ought to stay on the ship or not.’  
Alexios frowned. ‘Why would you? I’m sure Leda will have room for the four of you.’  
He was amazed when Pelias’ blush intensified, but he said firmly, ‘She might, but Barnabas might not.’  
Alexios looked at him in puzzlement for a moment; then he put the pieces together. ‘Oh! I see. Has it been going on for long?’  
The blush didn’t diminish. ‘Nothing is going on, exactly. I wish to make overtures, but Barnabas has refused.’  
That surprised Alexios. Leda was a strong and independent woman, and Pelias was a good man – he had been with the Adrestia for a long time, and served faithfully. He’d noticed that Barnabas had been very cool with Pelias lately, but he’d never thought to link it to Leda. He said gently, ‘Has he told you why?’ When Pelias shook his head, Alexios patted his shoulder and said, ‘I’m sure I can get it out of him. Don’t worry.’  
Pelias nodded, then said, ‘I’ll stay with the ship in the meantime, I suppose.’  
Alexios nodded, then turned away.  
Thaletas was waiting on the dock, and Alexios went to join him. 

They walked side by side in companionable silence into the Huntress’ Village, greeting the Daughters they passed on the way.  
Hermippa, the lead huntress on the island, saw them passing, and called Alexios over.  
‘Chaire,’ she said with her usual brusqueness. ‘I wondered if you were with them this time.’ She meant the crew, who had begun trickling into the village.  
It had been one of the more surprising events of the second summer after he and Thaletas had settled in Stymphalos. That year, Alexios had visited the Daughters without Thaletas, who’d been off in Sparta with his brother, Isadas. Boros had negotiated an agreement with Hermippa which had secured permission for the crew to construct several huts on one side of the village – and the Daughters’ had even helped with the construction. Thereafter, the crew were permitted to stay there whenever they were nearby, on condition that they did not hunt in the forests of Chios, nor interfere with the Daughters’ activities. Every crew member and Daughter had sworn an oath that they would abide by the agreement before Alexios in his position as the leader of the Daughters, and Barnabas, as the Captain of the Adrestia.  
Alexios had really been amazed when Boros had got his way; Hermippa was a difficult woman who didn’t seem to like most people, and particularly men; the idea of them cohabiting, no matter how fitfully, could not have been more unlikely. Somehow though, it worked; and besides, he had been even more surprised, as the years passed, that Hermippa and Boros had become friends. There was no accounting for some things, he thought smiling to himself.  
He said, ‘Yes, we're here on business, and I expect we’ll be here for longer than usual. Let me know if you have any troubles with this lot.’ He gestured with his head to the area where the crew was beginning to gather around a very large krater of wine which seemed to appear out of nowhere. At least, Alexios hadn’t seen it brought off the ship.  
She looked over at them and smiled, though she said in a sinister voice, ‘They know our terms.’  
Alexios chuckled before saying goodbye, as he and Thaletas turned to carry on to Chios City and Leda's new farm beyond.  
Thaletas asked, ‘What terms is she talking about?’  
Alexios smiled. ‘Didn’t I tell you? If the crew break the agreement by killing any animals, or disrespecting any of the Daughters without cause, they’re released into the forest with a small head start so that the Daughters can hunt them down. Hermippa’s reasoning is that they make good target practice – the only value a desecrator of the natural order has in her eyes.’  
Thaletas shook his head a little grimly. He’d never adjusted to the strange world of the Daughters; but he asked, ‘Has anyone been punished that way yet?’  
Alexios said, ‘Only one crew member. In the first summer after the agreement was made, he got a little to handsy with one of the Daughters against her will.’ He shook his head.  
‘He got what he deserved then,’ Thaletas said sternly. ‘Oath breakers are scum.’  
Alexios looked at him affectionately, and unexpectedly felt the fire of his desire catching alight. He caught hold of Thaletas’ hand and pulled him into an embrace. He said huskily, ‘Don’t pretend you have a hard heart, Spartan. You’re as soft as honey in the sun.’ He kissed him tenderly then, his lips warm and suggestively lingering for a moment.  
Thaletas grinned stupidly, feeling very much like the melted honey he was accused of being, his whole body suffused with heat, heart hammering with anticipation. Softly, he said, ‘Shall we go to the Abandoned Camp?’  
Alexios’ lips had strayed to his neck, his senses filled with his lover’s scent, his blood racing. He mumbled against his skin, ‘I don’t know if I can wait that long.’  
Thaletas chuckled, but stepped away from him, and turned towards the camp. With a groan of impatience, Alexios followed. 

They’d repaired and improved the Abandoned Camp over the years – still called that, since the Daughters had declared it Alexios’, and he was only sometimes there. It was now safely enclosed against the wolves who had once made it their home and still roamed nearby. They’d also built a new hut in the centre of the enclosure during the first buoyant summer of being together, after Thaletas had recovered from his injuries in Phokis. They’d been full of the newness of their love then, and they’d worked, laughed and made love in almost equal portions.  
The hut was only intended as a space to rest, and other associated activities, so had been built with a traditionally low doorway; so low that Thaletas, who entered first, had to crawl in on his hands and knees. Teasingly, knowing that Alexios was impatient, he took his time, giving a flirtatious glance over his shoulder. Alexios was watching him, his eyes devouring the sight of his strong thighs, and the curve of his arse through his tunic. He was so hard, he ached. He mumbled, ‘It’s just as well all dwellings aren’t made this way, or I’d get nothing done.’  
Thaletas chuckled, and slipping out of his tunic, he laid back on the bed made out of clean straw and the sensuous softness of Chian bear pelts, and held his arms open, an inviting smile on his lips.  
Alexios swept his tunic over his head, and with a sigh of pure happiness, that came from the very bottom of his soul, he sunk down into Thaletas arms and took his mouth with his.

Late in the afternoon, Alexios woke from a doze to find Thaletas looking at him with a smile playing on his lips.  
Sleepily, Alexios mumbled, ‘What is it?’  
‘You were talking in your sleep.’  
Alexios smiled, closing his eyes again and stretching. ‘What did I say?’  
Thaletas said warmly, ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Then he shifted into Alexios’ embrace, resting his head on his shoulder, Alexios pulling him closer, his response to the touch of their skin was apparent.  
Thaletas smiled as he said in a quiet voice filled with warmth, ‘I’ll love you forever, Alexios, I swear it.’  
Alexios looked down at him, but could only see the top of Thaletas’ head. He reached out and gently tilted his face upwards so that he could look into his eyes as he murmured softly, ‘Forever,’ and kissed his forehead, feeling his heart overflowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:  
> As you can probably guess, all the details about the potential defections and politics are taken from history - Thucydides specifically.  
> The nice detail about Agis quitting his wife's bed due to the religious implications of an earthquake is from Plutarch. I don't think anyone could miss the fact that this supposedly occurred at the same time as she was having her affair with Alcibiades - though Plutarch doesn't overtly suggest the two things are related.


	2. The Nature of Change

Things had changed a lot since Alexios had first visited Chios, he thought as he and Thaletas made their way south in the long bands of golden light and dark shadows of oncoming evening. Even outside the northern walls of Chios City, a few farms had sprung up; but on the southern side, they ran unbroken from the city wall to the old Mastic Farm, which was still owned by Alcinous. He was a grown man now, with a wife and children of his own. The last time Alexios had sat down with the him, they’d talked about the changes to Chios, and he’d explained that it was all a result of the war, which had brought an influx of people seeking refuge to the island; most of them came for the same reasons as Leda. He’d been able to sell much of his farm at a good profit, keeping only enough for his family to live comfortably.  
Though things had changed, Alexios could appreciate that it wasn’t all bad. Alcinous had pointed out that population brought wealth and opportunities. Sometimes good came hand-in-hand with change.   
At that time of late afternoon, the roads were busy with people. Released from their days’ labour, they were beginning to gather together for meals or symposia. The warm air carried the sounds of music from here and there, giving the afternoon a cheerful, festive air. Perhaps it only felt that way because inside, he was genuinely happy, though.  
He smiled to himself and glanced at Thaletas, who looked relaxed as he ambled along, looking out over the crops at various stages of harvest. His face was turned at such an angle that the light accentuated the line of his jaw and cheekbone. The fresh tunic he’d put on, a dark blue, suited him, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Even his walk was attractive…  
Gods, Alexios told himself with a grin; stop looking at him or you’ll drive yourself crazy.  
He did as he told himself, and looked ahead up the road, and saw Barnabas sitting on a fence, watching a group of three musicians singing. Beside him was Iola, the ex-smuggler, who drifted in and out of Barnabas’ life in a way that Alexios could only understand if he thought of them as two sea birds - they would come together for a season, then part ways again, but always would find one another again next season.  
Barnabas saw them coming, and raised a hand; Alexios was relieved to see he was smiling.  
‘I thought you two were coming straight here,’ he said, a twinkle in his eye.  
Alexios grinned. ‘We had a pressing matter to deal with.’  
‘No trouble, I hope?’ Iola asked seriously.  
‘No,’ Alexios said straight faced. ‘Just a small matter we needed to work out between ourselves.’  
Barnabas hastily changed the subject. ‘Did you send Pelias somewhere? The other lieutenants have been and gone, but not him.’  
Alexios said quietly, ‘He said he’d stay with the ship.’  
Barnabas frowned. ‘Why? That’s not his job.’  
Alexios opened his mouth to speak but Thaletas beat him to it. ‘Probably because you’ve been as surly as a bear towards him lately.’  
Barnabas gave him a hard look for a moment but, as Thaletas only looked back at him blandly, he seemed to give up, and sighed. ‘I don’t suppose you know why...’  
Thaletas interrupted, ‘Everyone knows that Pelias is pining for Leda. We just want to know what your reasons are for dragging his suffering out?’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas in surprise. ‘How long have you known?  
Thaletas glanced at him with half a smile. ‘Since we sailed together to Lemnos last year.’  
Barnabas said mournfully, ‘That was the start of it. He came to me and told me what he wanted before I sent him after you, Alexios. I didn’t realise they’d be thrown together like they were!’  
Alexios said, ‘She’s a smart, strong woman, Barnabas. I don’t understand why you don’t let her decide for herself?’  
Iola asked, ‘Does she even know he’s interested?’  
Barnabas said, a little defensively, ‘Her life is hard enough, without spending her days waiting for a man whose life depends on the whims of Poseidon!’  
‘Have you considered he might leave the Adrestia?’ Alexios asked.  
‘We need him,’ Barnabas said stubbornly.  
‘I could take his place until you find a replacement,’ Iola said. ‘Come on, Barney. If you respect her, then you should let her decide for herself.’  
He grumbled to himself, but was saved from having to make any other response by Leda calling them to the farmhouse for dinner.  
They walked in a loose group down the narrow track to the farmhouse which ran between two fields; one was in the process of being harvested, scattered throughout with stooks; the other had already been cut and the stooks removed to a nearby barn for threshing. The farmhouse when they reached it was smaller than the one in Attika, but it was in better condition with fresh white walls, and an enclosed courtyard where a long table had been set.  
Leda came to greet Alexios and Thaletas warmly, and then they all sat down to eat.

After the wine had been brought out, and the large kylix had gone around the table more than once, Leda asked cheerfully, ‘So what are you two doing here, Alexios?’  
He said, leaning back against the wall behind him contentedly, ‘We’re just here to observe what’s happening. Nothing very interesting.’  
She frowned. ‘Chios is a quiet place; the government is stable; the people are content; Athens treats us well. What’s to watch?’  
He said casually, ‘You know how it is in wartime. Sparta wants to know what’s happening everywhere.’  
She was still frowning. ‘I don’t find that comforting, Alexios!’  
He glanced at Thaletas, who had been looking down into his bowl; but he looked up, catching Alexios’ eye. He gave a slight shake of the head, but Alexios ignored this, and said, ‘There may be trouble brewing. There’s a fleet of Spartan ships meant to be coming to this part of the islands; but they’ve been waylaid, and may never arrive. We’re here to see what happens if they do, but more importantly, to defend you if it’s needed.’  
She looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. ‘Maláka,’ she said at last, under her breath. ‘They’re coming to raid the land?’  
‘No,’ Alexios said; he would’ve said more, but Thaletas placed a warning hand on his arm, and with a look, he reminded Alexios that Agis’ instructions had been specific - no one could know that the leader of Chios were manoeuvring behind the scenes to defect; at least, not before the ships arrived. Alexios corrected himself, ‘At least I don’t think so. We’ve been told they’re coming to patrol the waters and stir trouble.’  
She considered that. ‘I know that since the defeat in Sicilia, there’s been a lot of talk here and over on Lesbos about the possibility of breaking the alliance with Athens. We should have expected their coming, I suppose.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Inevitable, really.’  
The conversation was turned to other things then; but Leda had grown quiet, and more than once Alexios caught her looking intently at him, as if trying to read his mind.

Later in the evening, Phylas, Boros and Neokles came back to Leda’s Farm from the Huntresses Village, all in good spirits; or at least all drunk. They found Barnabas deep in discussion with Alexios and Thaletas about the probable reality of Scylla, while Leda and Iola were laughing about something or other, Leda clutching at her stomach with hilarity.  
Neokles, the ex-Athenian polemarch, roughed up Barnabas’ hair in a playful way which he knew irritated him, and collapsed onto a stool beside him. ‘You’re too earnest for this time of night, Captain.’  
Barnabas waved him away impatiently, saying with even more earnestness, ‘You none of you know what you’re talking about!’ and recommenced his argument from the beginning, aimed mostly at Neokles this time.  
Meanwhile, the ex-Spartan polemarch Phylas had taken up a stool, placing it as near to Thaletas’ as he could without actually touching him, and sat down heavily. He was a big man; it was a miracle the stool didn’t collapse. He smiled at Thaletas, possibly intending it to be sleazy, though his one squinted eye made his expression look more like a grimace. He offered him a grubby cup he’d carried with him, half filled with what Thaletas could smell was truly awful wine, and said, ‘I saved some for you.’  
Thaletas looked from the cup to Phylas with an eyebrow raised. ‘Uh… no thanks.’  
Alexios watched this exchange with a grin; he said with high good humour, ‘Honestly Phylas, when are you going to give up?’  
He looked at Alexios with a surly expression. ‘You don’t get to decide what I do.’  
Alexios was drunk, and without thinking, said, ‘Yes, I do.’  
He stood, swaying slightly. ‘I’ll beat you senseless for even thinking that, misthios!’  
Alexios snorted. ‘You couldn’t beat me senseless if you tried!’  
Phylas narrowed his eyes. ‘I’ll beat you, and when I’m done, I’ll do what I want with your lover.’ He leered at Thaletas.  
‘Come on then,’ Alexios said, standing himself, ‘Try me.’  
Thaletas was looking at Phylas in disgust and said firmly, ‘Just to be clear, Phylas, even if you do beat him senseless, you aren’t touching me.’  
Phylas grinned at him and gave an appalling wink, and then followed Alexios out to an open area in front of the farmhouse yard. The rest of the party followed them out to watch the fight, bringing the large kylix with them.  
The two men circled one another for a moment, then came to grips. In the ordinary course of things, Alexios would only have needed one opening in Phylas’ defences to be successful, but he was too drunk; and when they did come to grips, Phylas almost immediately floored him, pinning him down. Phylas was grinning down at him, and for a moment, Alexios looked up at him in drunken surprise. Then, in a fluid movement that Thaletas had experienced many times himself, usually in a different context though, he flipped them both over – a feat of strength that made everyone watching cheer. Phylas landed flat on his back, and gasped, ‘What was that?’ as he struggled to break the hold.  
Alexios grinned down at him. ‘Come on big man! Do you yield?’  
After a short moment of further struggle, he grudgingly said, ‘Fine.’  
Alexios released him, and they stood. Most of the party turned back into the farmhouse yard, but Phylas sulked off towards the barn where the lieutenants were housed, and Alexios brushed the dust off and grinned at Thaletas. ‘What would a party be without a fight?’  
Thaletas shook his head as they turned back into the yard together. ‘I don’t know – civilised?’ 

As they returned to the group, Leda was asking Neokles, ‘Where’s Pelias? I haven’t seen him.’  
Neokles couldn’t help but glance at Barnabas as he said, ‘He’s staying with the Adrestia.’  
She frowned; she’d spent a lot of time with the crew, and knew how these things worked. She turned to her father. ‘Pater? That’s not his job; he should be here.’  
Barnabas looked at the ground. ‘Perhaps.’  
Iola rested a hand on her arm. ‘There’s something your pater should have told you already.’  
Barnabas looked at her angrily; Iola seemed unaffected by the look and said, ‘If you don’t, I will.’  
‘What is it?’ Leda asked, her cheeks flushing. Alexios wasn’t alone in seeing that she had already guessed.  
Barnabas shook his head, so it was Iola who told her about Pelias’ wishes. Leda turned very red, and not entirely from her feelings towards Pelias. She had drunk too much wine; there were a lot more emotions than there might otherwise have been. ‘Pater! Why didn’t you tell me!’  
Barnabas stood up, looking unhappy. ‘Because you deserve better, Leda. He’s a sailor!’  
She shook her head angrily. ‘How can you say that when both you and Mater were sailors!’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas, and indicated with a tilt of his head that they should go; Thaletas nodded, and they slipped away, noticing that Boros and Neokles did likewise. 

As he and Thaletas walked in the bright moonlight back towards the Abandoned Camp, both heady with wine, Thaletas said quietly, ‘Leda clearly didn’t believe you earlier, about there being nothing to worry about.’  
‘No,’ Alexios said with a sigh. ‘Can you blame her? I wish I could’ve told her the truth.’  
Thaletas looked up at Selene for a moment, his face softened by the gentle light. ‘I know; but an order is an order.’ When he glanced at Alexios, he was surprised to see he was grinning. He raised an eyebrow in enquiry.  
‘I was just thinking of that morning on Mykonos when I asked you what orders you’d give me. Do you remember?’  
Thaletas chuckled quietly. ‘Of course I do. I couldn’t believe the words coming out my mouth even as I said them. You made me so nervous.’  
Alexios said nostalgically, ‘I couldn’t tell. I just knew what I wanted, and went for it.’  
Thaletas asked, ‘You never second guessed yourself?’  
‘Only once,’ he said quietly. ‘The morning I kissed you at the Sacred Lake. I half expected you to punch me in the face - or your men to.’ He chuckled. ‘I can still see the shock on their faces, you know.’  
Thaletas snorted. ‘They never looked at me the same after that.’  
They were quiet as they passed through the city, out the northern gate, and into the forest beyond. Alexios followed Thaletas along the narrow deer trail that led towards the Abandoned Camp, seeing his figure disappear in and out of the shadows cast by the moonlight. How many times had he passed through forests at night totally alone but for the forest creatures, he wondered; always bent on either stealing something, or slitting someone’s throat...  
Then he grinned to himself: just like Chios, some things could change for the better, he thought: tonight, at least, the only thing he was bent on was losing himself in the warm tangle of Thaletas’ love. That was a definite improvement.


	3. Arion

It was in the middle of the following morning, another bright sunny day. Alexios was in the middle of sharpening his sword, absorbed in his task. Thaletas was writing a report which they would arrange to have carried to Agis, advising him that they were in position and there was as yet no knowledge amongst the people of Sparta’s intended arrival. He was frowning fiercely. He didn’t like writing. He thought, in an ideal world, there would be no writing, only people speaking with one another. He would have been stunned to know that he and a certain Athenian philosopher had that in common.  
The peace was shattered by Barnabas, who shouted from outside the enclosure, ‘I’m coming in!’  
Alexios grinned. ‘Thanks for announcing yourself loudly enough for them to hear in Hades.’  
Barnabas smiled back, though it was obvious that after the argument with Leda the night before, he wasn’t as cheerful as usual. ‘With you two, it’s best to be careful.’ He walked towards Alexios. ‘A message for you. A young man from Arkadia brought it to the ship.’ He handed the scroll to Alexios, then helped himself to the wine that was sitting in a jug beside Thaletas.  
Alexios frowned. ‘Arkadia?’ He put down the sword he’d been working on down and opened the scroll. He scanned the contents swiftly. His face fell.  
‘What is it?’ Thaletas asked, seeing that it was bad news.  
Alexios didn’t answer immediately but instead asked Barnabas, ‘Did the messenger say where he’s staying?’  
‘Yes. He said he was camping at the Stony Sepulchre. He thought you’d want to talk.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Good.’ He looked at Thaletas then. ‘We’ll go pay him a visit.’  
Thaletas threw down his writing implement joyously and followed, saying over his shoulder, ‘Try not to drink all the wine before we get back, Barnabas.’  
Barnabas grinned as he sank into the seat Thaletas had just vacated. ‘Of course not!’

Thaletas asked, ‘So - who are we going to see?’  
Alexios sighed. ‘You remember I told you about the girl who used to stand up for me when I was a boy on Kephalonia?’  
He nodded. ‘I think she was called Anais?’  
‘Yes. It’s her son, Arion, who left the letter.’  
Thaletas raised his eyebrows. ‘What did it say?’  
Alexios said sadly, ‘Anais has died, and he says he has a gift from her for me.’ He paused, glancing at Thaletas. He was aware that what he was going to say might trigger Thaletas’ jealousy, but after the troubles of the past two years, he wasn’t going to repeat the mistakes he’d made by not being totally open about his past. He exhaled slowly before he said, ‘You should know that she and I... well... we fumbled about when we were teenagers. I was just discovering what to do with myself, but I think she loved me. We met again not long after I’d been to the Olympics, and there were tears and hopeful sentiments... the way she spoke about the past...’ He trailed off, looking at Thaletas with his heart in his mouth.  
He needn’t have worried. Alexios wasn’t the only one who had learnt from their mistakes. Seeing his concern, Thaletas said softly, ‘I’m glad you told me.’ He frowned, and after they’d walked a few steps, he added, ‘I’d wondered if you’d been with women in the past.’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘Not since. Being with her made me realise that’s not who I am.’  
Thaletas said, ‘She was a good friend to you though?’  
‘She was – perhaps better than I deserved. We didn’t part on the best of terms.’  
Thaletas put a comforting hand on his arm for a moment, but was prohibited from asking more as they had reached the tomb.  
As they emerged from the trees, they saw Arion sitting beside a fire, turning an improvised spit with meat on the skewer. He heard them coming, and with the swift reflexes of a man used to being at risk, he was on his feet, sword in hand; but when he saw Alexios, he relaxed and sheathed his sword. ‘Alexios. I thought you’d come. Please - sit. Who’s this with you?’  
Alexios introduced Thaletas, and then looked Arion over as they seated themselves on a log. The boy had grown into a man – and a big man at that. He was as tall as Alexios with the build to match. It was clear from his showy armour, scarred arms, and general demeanour that he had become a mercenary.  
‘So, you became a misthios after all,’ Alexios said, before adding jokingly, ‘I guess the training I gave you paid off.’  
Arion scoffed. ‘It was a start. You know, Mater never forgave you for giving me hope that I might be a misthios one day.’ He smiled sadly. ‘For all that, she missed you after you left, and talked about you often.’  
Alexios asked gently, ‘What happened to her?’  
He looked into the fire. ‘It was last summer. An illness came to the village - a fever, followed by terrible weakness. She refused to rest, refused to acknowledge she was even sick.’ He shook his head.  
Alexios knew how stubborn Anais had been, how determined; and he had seen Euripides suffering with a similar illness in Boeotia; he could all too readily imagine the last terrible weeks of her life. Gently, he said, ‘I’m sorry, Arion.’  
Arion shook his head and said firmly, ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for. We’ll all of us go to Hades one day; I’ll see her again.’ Then he looked up, a slight smile on his lips. ‘If you want to be sorry about something, then you could spare a thought for how long I’ve been searching for you. I heard in Sparta that you lived in Stymphalos, so I was sure it would be easy to find you; but I’ve stopped by there at least a dozen times since last summer, and you were always away.’  
Alexios chuckled. ‘Sorry about that, then. It was a busy year last year. How did you come to find us here?’  
‘Pure chance,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I came into port last night - working,’ he added with a slight grimace, ‘and I happened to overhear a couple of soldiers gossiping, saying the Eagle Bearer was on the island. So, I wrote the letter and sought out your ship. It wasn’t hard to find - that new paint job makes her stand out.’  
‘I told you it was too showy,’ Thaletas said dryly. They had had a long and, at times, heated discussion about the choice of colour – a garish combination of green and gold; Alexios had won in the usual way – by ignoring Thaletas’ better sense, doing just what he wanted, then lavishing affection on him until he stopped frowning about it.  
Alexios grinned, eyes gleaming. ‘What’s wrong with showy, as long as you’ve got something worth showing off?’  
Thaletas rolled his eyes but his lips curved into an unbidden smile anyway. The aftermath of that discussion had been an intense couple of days of lovemaking in the cave outside Sparta which still made his tummy flip over in recollection.  
Arion looked from one to the other, sensing the intimacy between them. He smiled slightly. ‘Made my life easier anyway.’  
Alexios turned back to him. ‘We should offer a libation to your Mater.’  
‘Before we do,’ Arion said, ‘This is for you.’ He handed a small wooden box to Alexios. ‘She didn’t tell me what was in it, but she insisted I find you and deliver it.’  
‘Thank you,’ Alexios said, tucking it away. ‘I appreciate your bringing it to me. Now, that wine.’

They drank a few cups while Alexios and Arion talked; about Alexios’ childhood adventures with Anais; about the time Alexios had spent with her and Arion back in the early years of the war; about the training that they had secretly conducted together surrounded by wolves; and about their current lives and work - what they could disclose, both carefully avoiding saying too much.  
At last Arion said he had to go as he had somewhere he needed to be.  
As they were saying goodbye, Alexios put a hand on his shoulder. ‘If you ever need anything, Arion, you can always come to me - for your mater’s sake.’  
He smiled, and said warmly, ‘Thank you, Alexios. I hope I never need to take you up on that; but I’ll keep it in mind.’

As Thaletas and Alexios picked their way back towards the Abandoned Camp, Alexios said quietly, ‘It’s a shame you never got to meet Anais. She was a good woman.’  
Thaletas smiled gently. ‘If her son’s anything to judge by, then I’m sure she was.’  
Alexios said, ‘He’s likable, isn’t he?’ He chuckled. ‘I didn’t think he was going to turn out that way when he was a boy. He was stubborn and difficult.’  
Thaletas said dryly, ‘You’re alike then.’ He ducked the playful swipe Alexios aimed at him, and changed the subject. ’It sounds like you spent quite a while with them in Arkadia?’  
‘A few months, coming and going.’ He looked a little abashed. ‘It would have been longer, I suppose, but I made the decision to help Arion train against Anais’ wishes. She wanted him to be farmer with a mind only for the plough, but he was born to be a fighter – his father had known it, and he was very determined to live up to that. She didn’t know about the training until one day when we were in Tegea together, and the farm was attacked by bandits. Arion successfully defended the place by himself. She was furious, and asked me to go.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t blame her.’  
Thaletas thought about this for a long moment before he said, ‘She was wrong, though.’  
Alexios raised an eyebrow. ‘Wrong?’  
‘Even a farmer has to be able to defend himself - unless he’s in Sparta, I suppose, and the army does it for him. By keeping him from training, she was asking him to be killed by bandits in preference to perhaps dying manfully defending himself and what was his.’  
Alexios smiled. ‘I agree with you; but maters don’t think like you and I, Thaletas.’  
Thinking of his own estranged mother, Thaletas grimaced. ‘No, they don’t.’  
They were almost back at the Abandoned Camp, when their ears were assailed by the sound of raucous, tuneless singing.  
‘Sounds like Barnabas is having a good time,’ Alexios said, looking at Thaletas with a grin.  
Thaletas huffed out a breath, an irritated flush reaching his cheeks. ‘If that malaka has drunk all our wine, so help me, I’m going to kick him!’  
Alexios laughed. ‘Well that’ll spice up the afternoon!’

That night, after they’d retired to their hut, leaving Barnabas passed out in the old shelter on one side of the enclosure, (‘I hope it rains,’ Thaletas had grumbled, because the roof leaked and Barnabas had indeed drunk all their wine), and Thaletas was sleeping peacefully, Alexios took out the box. In the lamplight it looked like a hundred other wooden boxes - undecorated, made of well-worn dark wood.  
Inside he found only three items: a sea shell, the one he’d dived for when they’d first met again in Arkadia; a pebble worn smoothe which Alexios vaguely recalled he’d given her when they were children, in gratitude for some act now lost to time; and a small fragment of parchment, folded in half, tucked at the bottom.  
He opened it out, and leant close to the lamp to read the words written on it: “I spoke more harshly than I should have, but I hope that you will remember me kindly.’  
He sighed sadly as he folded the paper back in half and tucked it back in the box. For a moment he let his hand linger over the shell and the pebble, thinking about the past. Then he closed the lid carefully, and put the box away. Snuffing the lamp, he snuggled down onto the pelts and into Thaletas’ back. He put his arm around him, hand resting on his chest, his face buried in his hair, Thaletas’ comforting scent soothing his sadness. Thaletas stirred, shifted sleepily back against him, and then sighed contentedly before sleeping again.  
For a long time, Alexios laid awake; on the one hand, so grateful for Thaletas, and all the people he cared for who surrounded him; but on the other, saddened that his oldest friend was gone, and the world felt a little lonelier than it had without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, Myriath, for the suggestion :)


	4. Ships in the Harbour

A week and more passed in relative quiet, and then, on a windy day, things changed.  
Alexios and Thaletas had come into the city to speak with Barnabas, who had yet to reconcile with Leda so had been living on the ship. Alexios had tried and failed to persuade him to take a pallet at the Huntresses Village, or to bunk down at Alcinous’ farm. He stubbornly refused.  
Alexios was worried about him. He didn’t say so, but he thought Barnabas was getting too creaky in his joints to sleep on the hard boards. Even if he had, the captain wouldn’t have listened anyway.  
Thaletas and he were poring over the map of Lesbos, when they were disturbed by a shout.  
‘Commander! There’s ships coming this way!’ Barnabas was up on the deck of the Adrestia, looking out to sea. They left the map and went to join him, looking in the direction he was pointing.  
Alexios whistled for Ikaros, and for a long moment, Thaletas and Barnabas looked at him, waiting. At last, he said, ‘From Sparta; five of them. Alcibiades is with them.’  
‘Five?’ Thaletas queried. ‘Weren’t there supposed to be twenty?’  
Alexios shook his head vaguely. ‘Alcibiades being there means they must have come directly from Sparta. It can't be the force sent out earlier in the year.’  
Thaletas said quietly, ‘He was very keen to have assistance sent to Chios. I guess he got his way.’  
Alexios said dryly, ‘As usual.’ He looked around, expecting a crowd to have gathered as it usually did when there were incoming ships in any number, but the dock remained quiet except for a group of young boys and a handful of women who seemed more interested in their chatter than the ships.  
He frowned, asking Barnabas, ‘Where is everyone?’  
‘Alcinous said they’d called an extraordinary council meeting for this morning. He stopped by on his way there.’ Barnabas and the young farmer were close friends, having a father/son relationship which had been formed when, years before, Alcinous had lost his mother and brother in very unusual circumstances. It had been Barnabas who had broken the news to him; it had been Barnabas who had brought him back to Chios, helped him settle back onto the farm without his family, and over the years, work through his anger and sadness. Ever since, Barnabas had made Chios one of their annual stops, just like Thasos.  
‘They thought of everything, didn’t they?’ Thaletas murmured.  
Alexios nodded and with grudging respect, said, ‘That’s Alcibiades.’  
They remained where they were, watching the five ships come into harbour then tie up at the dock.  
Alcibiades was amongst the first ashore. He was chatting earnestly with one of his fellow travellers when he saw Alexios and Thaletas. He smiled, and leant over to whisper something to a helot with him, not taking his eyes from Alexios. As the boy moved towards them though, Alcibiades continued on his way into the town surrounded by a cluster of followers; in particular by a looming Spartan polemarch with a burnished helmet complete with an enormous red plume.  
The young helot reached Alexios, and said, ‘Sir. Alcibiades requests to speak to you after he has finished at the council.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Alright. Tell him I’ll be there.’  
Thaletas shook his head, smiling to himself. Alexios had said on many occasions that he was done with Alcibiades and hated him; he’d even said as much to Alcibiades himself; but in truth, any time the man called, Alexios was curious enough to answer - wary, watchful, but intrigued. ‘Shall we go and listen in at the council meeting?’ he suggested.  
Alexios shook his head and said a little grimly, ‘No need. We’ll know when it’s over. Either the Spartans will come hightailing it out of there making for their boats, or the crowd will, hurrying home to tell their families to bury their valuables.’  
Thaletas nodded, and they returned to the map and their earlier, interrupted, discussion.

It took a lot longer than they had anticipated, and as the day drew on, they settled on the bridge and shared a wine from an amphora that Barnabas had offered them sheepishly after disgracing himself. The shadows were growing long when, just as Alexios had foreseen, the people came hurrying out of the city, few of them looking happy.  
‘He persuaded them too, then,’ Alexios said, shaking his head. ‘Wait here - I won’t be long.’  
Thaletas let him go with a look that told him to be careful.

Alexios jogged towards the council chambers, and found Alcibiades talking with the Spartan polemarch; there were a few people inside, but otherwise they were alone. The two stopped talking when they saw Alexios, and Alcibiades said, ‘Chalcideus; be a dear and give us a little time alone?’  
The Spartan looked at Alexios with a hard stare, then went inside.  
‘So - You carried the day again,’ Alexios said. ‘You seem to be making a habit of getting your own way.’  
Alcibiades took this lightly. He smiled. ‘What can I say, I have a gift straight from the gods.’ He grew serious then. ‘But listen, we don’t have a lot of time. I’m glad you’re here; I know you’ll be surprised to hear this, but I wished to ask your forgiveness.’  
Alexios cocked an eyebrow and said dubiously, ‘Forgiveness? What have you done now?’  
He shook his head. ‘Surely you know I’m talking about what happened with Thaletas, and the brothers in Athens. I know that upset you, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was very unhappy at the time, and I’m afraid I took that out on you.’  
Alexios looked at him for a long moment, puzzled. ‘Why apologise now?’  
Alcibiades rested a familiar hand on his arm. ‘As soon as possible is the right time to apologise when you realise you’ve done wrong, don’t you think?’  
Alexios was almost persuaded to believe him, though he couldn’t help doubting his motives; but he said, ‘Alright. I accept your apology.’  
‘Thank you,’ Alcibiades said, smiling. ‘That is a relief. It would have made things difficult.’  
Alexios quirked an eyebrow. ‘How so?’  
Alcibiades produced a document then, and handed it to Alexios.  
‘What’s this?’  
‘Orders from Pleistoanax. I’m going to arm the men who sailed with me and leave them as the garrison here while the Chians re-man our ships plus add twenty more to our number. Our king orders you to manage the garrison here while we sail for Miletus.’  
Alexios frowned, looking down at the scroll in his hand. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Pleistoanax had got wind of his being on the island, but it was less easy to explain why he wanted him to manage the garrison. Besides, he knew very well that Alexios hated taking orders. He looked up at Alcibiades and asked, ‘Why me? What about your muscle?’ He nodded towards Chalcideus. ‘Shouldn’t he be in charge of the Spartan forces?’  
Alcibiades grinned then, his old self shining through. ‘Oh I’d leave him here, but I couldn’t do without him, you know.’  
Alexios looked from Chalcideus to Alcibiades, and couldn’t help himself; he laughed. ‘Really?’  
Alcibiades said confidentially, a smile on his face, ‘He’s no philosopher, of course; but after seeing your happiness, I thought I should see what all the fuss was about with these Spartan generals. I must say – he is very good at those... strategic manoeuvres.’  
Alexios snorted with laughter.  
Chalcideus saw Alcibiades looking at him and concluded he was the topic of the conversation. He came over. ‘We should be going, Alcibiades.’ He looked at Alexios out of the corner of his eye; Alexios only grinned at him.  
‘Alright,’ Alcibiades said, then to Alexios added, ‘Your men will be on the dock in the morning.’  
‘Before you go - any word on the twenty ships?’  
‘Thermon has joined them as commander after Alcamenes was killed, but they’re still stuck on the coast of Boeotia,’ Alcibiades said.  
Alexios pursed his lips. ‘The Athenians are bound to hear that Chios has revolted. Two hundred men won’t be enough if they send a fleet.’  
Alcibiades shook his head lightly. ‘More ships are coming from Korinthia. They should arrive any day now. In the meantime, don’t worry. It will take time for word to reach Athens. By the time it does, we’ll have a substantial fleet of ships here.’ He said goodbye then as Chalcideus ushered him away, leaving Alexios to go in the opposite direction, back to the ship, lost in thought.

The following morning, Alexios and Thaletas arrived at the docks early, and found the men only then coming ashore from the Spartan ships.  
It took some time, but at last, their garrison force of two hundred men were gathered together, talking between themselves. They had apparently been provided with breastplates and swords, but they were in every other way simple helots, freed for military service. The kind of force, Alexios thought, that was sent to make an appearance of assistance, but which would, if push came to shove, be of limited help.  
Alexios frowned, and asked the nearest, ‘Have you had any military training?’  
‘No, sir.’  
He looked at Thaletas, who grimaced back. ‘We have our work cut out,’ he muttered.  
Alexios nodded, but putting as cheerful a face on it as he could, he said, ‘Attention everyone! I’m Alexios, your commander; this is my second-in-command, Thaletas, who you’ll be pleased to hear was a successful Spartan general some years ago. We’ll be training you over the coming days, preparing you for a possible invasion of Chios by the Athenian dogs. First, though, lets get you settled into the city.’  
He barely knew where to start, Alexios thought, his mind running ahead to training... and armament. They would have to find helmets somewhere, and bows; though at least the Daughters could help with half of that.  
He sighed. Pleistoanax really was a malaka.

They spent the days familiarising the ‘soldiers’ with the city and the country beyond the walls, and issued them with orders to gather the following morning for their first training session.  
As Alexios and Thaletas walked slowly home, they were both quiet, both worried; back in the Abandoned Camp, they ate in silence, and went to bed as soon as the sun went down. They both laid awake in the thick darkness, arms around one another, lost in thought.  
Thaletas broke the silence. There was anger in his voice, though he was trying to remain calm. ‘How can they expect these two hundred untrained men to defend the island against a full force of Athenian soldiers?’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘Perhaps the Athenians won’t come. Perhaps the ships from Korinthia will arrive before they do....’  
He snorted. ‘Perhaps Ares will come down from Mount Olympos and fight side by side with the demi-god Eagle Bearer...’  
There was a grin in Alexios’ voice when he said, ‘There is that, of course.’  
Thaletas grumbled, and Alexios pulled him against himself, saying, ‘We had better make the best of it, my love – for the people of Chios, if nothing else.’  
Thaletas pressed his face into Alexios’ chest. He said almost in a whisper, ‘I’m honestly afraid for these people, Alexios. The Athenians will come, and they won’t be messing around. Even if the king had sent two hundred trained Spartan hoplites, we wouldn’t be able to defend the whole island.’  
This admission startled him, though they had both been thinking it. It wasn’t like Thaletas to admit weakness. He said gently, ‘I know,’ and kissed the top of his head.  
Thaletas turned his face upwards and, with an overwhelming need to be loved, to feel consumed, he kissed Alexios deeply, a kiss, full of tender demand.  
In the gentle, intense lovemaking that followed, they were both conscious that an unspoken promise was being made: that they would always find themselves here – with one another, in their love. In a way, they were preparing; they’d both seen enough of war and death to know that this would be the only bulwark to the horrors that must come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:  
> Details of these events are taken from Thucydides. The oligarchs had been conspiring with Sparta as earlier outlined; they met with Alcibiades on the mainland the day before and recommended that Alcibiades sailed into the harbour of Chios City unannounced; they deliberately convened the council so that Alcibiades and Chalcideus could take the floor and persuade the people upon arrival.   
> The two hundred freed helots were left on the island as a garrison when Alcibiades sailed off to Miletus thereafter with new Chian crews on his five ships. Whether they were trained or not isn't stated, but Alcibiades being so quick to ditch them certainly suggest to me they weren't.  
> Chalcideus was a historical figure; though perhaps he wasn’t Alcibiades’ lover though (but it is possible.)


	5. News From the Outside World

‘Have you seen Pelias?’ Alexios asked Thaletas at the end of another long day of training. They were walking side-by-side towards the Abandoned Camp.  
He shook his head and said flatly, ‘Not since Barnabas went back to living on the ship.’  
Thaletas was feeling bleak about the training. His Spartan ideals of what an army should look like was about as far from the rabble they had as could be conceived. The training seemed never-ending, and was never as successful as he hoped. The men couldn’t hold a formation for more than two steps. If they ever had to face the Athenians in open battle, he thought, they were surely doomed, despite whatever else they were being taught. The phalanx was the only way to win battles as far as Thaletas was concerned. He glanced at Alexios, who was walking along with his usual swagger, and shook his head lightly to himself. His lover was having the men learn a whole lot of things that Thaletas privately thought was just taking their attention away from the importance of the phalanx – but he acknowledged, grudgingly, that some of it might be useful.  
Alexios was feeling more cheerful about their prospects. Not exactly optimistic, but hopeful.  
For one thing, the crew of the Adrestia, who Alexios had recruited in Pephka many years before when he became arena champion, had taken it upon themselves to take part in training the soldiers. They’d set up a kind of training school in the city, and each day, when Thaletas was done with them out on the training ground, they’d bring them in and teach them what they jokingly called ‘real fighting.’ Most of the crew had been reasonably skilled warriors in the arena themselves – enough to stay alive through multiple bouts, anyway; so they were able to teach melee skills to the soldiers that a Spartan would never have used – effective fighting, even if it had no connection to the phalanx that Thaletas was determined to teach them.   
For another thing, there had been extensive training with the bow in the Huntresses Village. Alexios had been to beg any bows they could spare, and when Hermippa had heard why, she had insisted that the women should train the soldiers themselves because, as efficient a marksman as Alexios was, he wasn’t that good. He’d taken this criticism with a grin. He knew where his skills ended, even if he liked to pretend there was no end to them sometimes.   
The training had been tense at times, the Daughters being what they were; but there could be no doubt that the huntresses were as committed to saving the island as anyone. This was definitely encouraging to Alexios; he felt that everyone was pulling together, and it gave him a warm feeling inside.  
He looked at Thaletas from the corner of his eye. He knew that his love was feeling unhappy about what he perceived as his personal failure to instil proper Spartan notions of warfare in the minds of the men; but he was sure that when the moment came to face the Athenians, as it surely must, Thaletas would be pleasantly surprised. In the meantime, Alexios could only try to keep Thaletas’ spirits up.  
It certainly helped that they were surrounded by friends and family; for the first time in a very long time, they were spending more than a few days at a stretch with people who really mattered to them. He and Thaletas had shared meals with Alcinous and his family; Leda and her friends; even Arion had come to eat with them now and then in the Abandoned Camp, slowly becoming a part of the extended family.   
‘I wonder where he is?’ Alexios continued, still talking about Pelias. ‘I didn’t see him at the Huntresses Village yesterday. I suppose one of us should try to find him.’  
Thaletas said, ‘He’s a misthios. I’m sure he’s just sulking somewhere.’  
Alexios said quietly, ‘He must be going through some things right now.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘Aren’t we all?’  
Alexios tilted his head a little. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’  
Thaletas considered whether he did or not. They’d reached the camp, and went in, closing the gate behind them. Alexios set about lighting the fire, and seeing that his lover was grappling with his thoughts, he waited patiently.  
Thaletas sat on a stool pulled up to the fire. Under Alexios’ skilled hands, the flames grew, his face lit in the dusk by the golden light.   
Thaletas for a brief moment felt the familiar surge of wonder that he loved, and was loved in return by Alexios; the memory of the years when it had all seemed impossible, when he had been so intensely lonely and closed off from any real human connection had left a permanent mark on his feelings. They were both the same in that way, he now knew. Their love truly was that of two lonely souls finding they weren’t alone after all. He would never stop being grateful to the gods for that. He said, ‘I’ve been surprised at how Spartan I still am, I suppose.’  
Alexios looked up at him fondly. ‘You didn’t realise? Not even after that business with Pitakos?’  
‘I knew I still felt loyalty to my past,’ he said, colouring slightly at the reminder of the terrible time they’d had over his ex-mentor. ‘But I didn’t realise that I still had such a rigid belief in the Spartan way.’  
Alexios raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean – you think the men should be trained in the phalanx, rather than spending time on anything else?’  
He nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure that’s what the kings would want.’ He sighed. ‘In Sparta, the idea of attacking the enemy with arrows, rather than in a frontal assault hand-to-hand, is so totally unmanly, it’s taboo; and fighting in disarray – well, you know that that’s sheer barbarism.’ He saw Alexios open his mouth to speak and he stopped him with a gentle gesture. ‘I’m not saying it’s wrong, under the circumstances – only that it rubs up against my training, and I suppose, my beliefs. I’d have to be blind to see that the men are never going to learn how to fight like true Spartans in time. It just… challenges me, that’s all.’  
Alexios was looking into the fire. He said quietly, ‘I understand. It would be the same if I tried to fight in a phalanx.’  
He smiled then at the idea of Alexios joining in the scrimmage that was phalanx battle - no chance for showy heroism, just one long shoving match, shield to shield. He said, ‘The men are lucky to have two men training them with such different approaches. It’s one of the failings of Sparta – they only fight in one way.’  
It wasn’t often that Alexios heard Thaletas directly criticise Sparta, but he hid his surprise. He nodded solemnly. ‘I think it will get them into trouble one day.’ He narrowed his eyes as if he could see the future in the fire. ‘There are already other states with strong contingents of peltasts and archers who do real damage to the phalanx.’  
Thaletas sighed. ‘Worse – there are states that Sparta has fought many times, and continue to fight, and they are not only using new approaches which Sparta turns her nose up at, but they are becoming much stronger in their own phalanx formations. The laws forbid Sparta from fighting the same enemy for more than one season at a time; Lycurgus knew that if we did that, our enemies would learn how to fight us on our own terms. That law has been put aside many times; there are bound to be repercussions.’  
‘Well – let's hope it doesn’t happen in our lifetime. Besides, Sparta can change. After all - they have a navy now.’  
Thaletas smiled. Alexios knew he didn't think much of that. ‘Speaking of which, I wonder whether we’ll ever see those twenty ships from Boeotia?’  
Alexios rolled his eyes. ‘I doubt it. Or they’ll arrive after the fighting is done.’  
He shook his head with a wry smile. ‘Probably.’

The next morning, they discovered that their slightly sarcastic opinions were at least in part wrong.   
It was just on dawn, and the Abandoned Camp was still in darkness. Inside the hut, Alexios woke, his face buried in Thaletas’ hair which frankly needed cutting, but it was one of those tasks that never seemed to get done.  
Just his scent was enough to make Alexios harden, but then Thaletas shifted sleepily, and mumbled, ‘Well, good morning to you, too.’  
Alexios chuckled, his hand wandering, kissing the soft skin of his neck, running his hand sensuously across his skin. Thaletas moaned, leaning his head in such a way that allowed Alexios greater access to the sensitive skin at the point where shoulder met neck.  
Then there came the dreaded sound of Barnabas’ voice. ‘Alexios!’  
Alexios didn’t stop, but kept his attention stubbornly bent on what he was doing, kissing his way across Thaletas’ shoulder, then down the length of his side, before laying him down flat and kissing his way towards his manhood.   
Thaletas groaned, partly out of pleasure and partly out of frustration, and said, ‘Why now?’  
‘Ignore him,’ Alexios said softly, then enjoyed the gasp of pleasure that Thaletas gave as he took him into his mouth.  
‘Alexios!’ Barnabas called again, sounding more insistent.   
This time though, even the responsible Thaletas ignored him. 

‘By the gods Alexios!’ Barnabas said when Alexios crawled out of the hut a short time later, finding the captain standing with his arms crossed and a frown on his brow. ‘You took your time.’ Alexios grinned at that, which Barnabas ignored. ‘There are ships coming into the harbour. You’re lucky they seem to be Spartan.’  
Alexios’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Well that’s good news. How many?’  
‘Four.’  
‘Four?’ he said with confusion. ‘There’s supposed to be twenty.’  
Barnabas said grimly, ‘Perhaps the rest were lost on the way.’  
Thaletas came out of the hut to join them then, and said with a touch of sarcasm, ‘I’m going to start calling you the rooster, Barnabas.’  
Barnabas responded with mock sourness, ‘I wouldn’t have to be a rooster if certain people rose at a reasonable hour.’  
Thaletas chuckled and they went out of the camp together towards Chios City.

The ships had docked by the time they reached the city, and their commander, a man named Astyochus, was looking for them. He was of medium height with curly dark hair which only grudgingly allowed itself to be braided. They had met before, as Astyochus was in King Agis’ orbit. That boded well – Agis was careful in the men he chose to be his advisors, always choosing the most sensible and intelligent rather than those who sucked up to him.  
He greeted them one after the other with a hand shake. ‘King Agis told me you were here. He’s made me admiral in chief of the navy.’ He sounded brusque enough, but Alexios could see that he wasn’t entirely confident – which after the mess at Boeotia, was understandable, even though it hadn't had anything to do with Astyochus personally.  
Alexios asked, ‘Where are the rest of the ships? Didn’t you take command of the twenty that were blockaded on the coast at Boeotia?’  
He nodded. ‘I did. I could only bring some of the fleet while the others are being restocked. More are coming.’  
Jokingly, he said, ‘The refrain of this summer, "The ships will come."' Then more seriously, he asked, 'What are your orders?’  
‘I'm to sail on Lesbos and deliver the hoplites I have aboard. I understand the Chians have been sending their own ships in that direction, furthering the revolution?’  
‘Yes,’ Alexios said, ‘They sent ten ships initially, a couple of weeks ago, but they were attacked and defeated by a small contingent of Athenian ships – fifteen or more they think, out of Samos. Four of their own ships were captured. These are determined people though: the day before yesterday they sent another thirteen to Lesbos. We expect to hear that Mytilene has revolted at any time now.’  
‘Excellent,’ Astyochus said with a smile. ‘That will make my life easier. I’ll sail over tomorrow and see what I can do to help the cause. How are the men coming along here?’  
Alexios nodded slowly, but it was Thaletas who said coolly, ‘They’ve been training daily, and are shaping up as well as can be expected.’  
Astyochus looked at Thaletas was something of pity on his face. ‘Pleistoanax was quite pleased with himself when he thought up that plan.’  
Thaletas smiled wryly. ‘I’m sure he was. Typical of him to think of his own petty squabbles with Agis before the welfare of Chios, though.’  
Astyochus snorted. ‘To worry about an asset, you have to understand that it is an asset in the first place, and Pleistoanax cannot see anything worth anything beyond Sparta’s borders.’ Then he changed the topic. ‘My men need some food. Have you a mess organised?’  
‘Of course. We’ll show you where.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:  
> The details come from Thucydides. The discussion of the failings of the Spartan army is inspired by pretty much all my reading in ancient warfare, in which the strict adherence to the phalanx is often criticised. The Spartan opposition to fighting with archers and peltasts was so marked (and deep seated), that one of the prisoners taken at Pylos in the first years of the war actually said, in paraphrase, we surrendered because it would have been despicable to fight the Athenians who were attacking us in such a womanly and cowardly fashion.  
> Astyochus was a real historical figure. He was sent by Agis, who was based in Dekelia, to be the Admiral in Chief of the Spartan navy, and to take personal command of the twenty ships as outlined here.


	6. A Gathering

The following day, after watching Astyochus sail off with his four ships bound for Lesbos, Alexios had slipped back to the Adrestia to swap out his armour. He was in the cargo hold when he heard shouting from above. He stuck his head out of the hatch, and Barnabas, who had just come down from the bridge, said excitedly, ‘Neleus is here!’  
Alexios frowned. ‘He is?’ He climbed up out of the hatch, and looked where Barnabas pointed, to a small merchant ship that was just then tying off. Sure enough, Neleus was waving to Barnabas from the deck. He saw that Mikkos was with him. ‘Why? Don’t they know the war’s on our doorstep?’  
Barnabas said, ‘They promised to visit Leda once she’d had a chance to settle in. They may not realise the situation.’  
Alexios sighed. ‘Great – more people to worry about if things get messy.’  
Barnabas slapped his shoulder. ‘It’s lucky you’re a demi-god then, isn’t it?’  
Alexios gave him a withering look, which only made Barnabas grin before he rushed away to greet his nephew. Alexios ambled after him, wondering what version of Mikkos he should expect this time. They hadn’t met since the previous summer, but at that time he’d seemed better – he said he hadn’t been drinking, and there was every reason to believe him. However, he had reformed before then fallen back into his old ways, so Alexios could only hope that this time was different.  
As he approached them, he was relieved to see that he still looked sober, and healthy. That was hopeful – and a relief.   
‘Mikkos,’ he said, as they shook hands, then Neleus. ‘You’re looking well.’  
‘Thank you, misthios,’ he said with an easy smile. ‘I am well.’  
Neleus said, ‘Chaire Alexios. What are you doing here?’  
Alexios said, ‘I should be asking you that. Haven’t you heard that we’re at the epicentre of the war right now?’  
They both looked alarmed. Neleus said, ‘What? We heard nothing about that on Lemnos.’ He looked at Barnabas, then back at Alexios. ‘Are you serious?’  
Alexios nodded. ‘Chios has revolted from the Athenian Empire. Sparta sent two hundred soldiers to defend her then sailed off with all the ships to the mainland. We – Thaletas and I – have been left in charge.’  
Neleus laughed. ‘You – in charge of a Spartan army?’  
Alexios grinned. ‘I know – ridiculous. But it’s true. Thaletas is at the training grounds right now.’  
Neleus looked at Mikkos and said, ‘We had better go home first thing in the morning then.’  
Mikkos nodded and said to Alexios, ‘If you think we’ll be able to safely get away then?’  
Alexios shrugged. ‘We haven’t had any sign of an attack, but we’ve been expecting it for a while now... But, you should be safe enough.’  
They nodded, and Mikkos said, ‘We better go to Leda’s now then. Barnabas, you’ll come with us?’  
He shook his head slowly, and Neleus, frowning heavily, asked, ‘Why not?’  
‘It’s a long story,’ Barnabas said.  
‘No, it’s not.’ Alexios interjected. ‘Barnabas refused to let an eligible suitor make his offer to Leda, and when she found out, Leda kicked him out of her house.’  
Neleus rolled his eyes and said, ‘Really, Uncle! She’s not a girl of seventeen!’  
Barnabas looked at the ground and made no reply to that. Neleus said, ‘Come on, you’re coming with us.’  
The captain shook his head stubbornly, and Alexios said, ‘If you don’t go with them willingly, I’ll knock you out and send you on Phobos.’  
Barnabas looked at him resentfully, but he was by no means sure that Alexios was joking, so he grudgingly went.  
Neleus said to Alexios, ‘Come for dinner later. I’m sure Leda will want to have everyone together.’  
Alexios said that he would, and watched them walking away towards the city gates, Barnabas dragging his feet. He smiled to himself, glad that someone was finally dealing with that situation, then went away himself, back towards the training grounds.

That night was one of those occasions when the gods conspire to bring everyone to the same place at the same time. Alexios and Thaletas arrived at Leda’s Farm on dusk, both of them quiet on the way there, deep in thought about what they had or hadn’t achieved that day, and found the farmhouse alight with torches and lanterns, and even before they reached the structure, they could hear the voices of those who had arrived before them. They could tell there was a crowd, as some of the guests had spilled out into the area outside the courtyard.  
‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ Thaletas said with a smile. ‘Sounds like everyone’s here.’  
Alexios said ruefully, ‘Typical - a really good party when we can't drink any wine.’  
They were greeted with a cheer from a few of the soldiers who were clustered outside as they approached; inside the courtyard was a mix of people.   
Some of the Daughters were there, talking in loose groups with Iola and Leda. Alexios was tickled to see Hermippa, who was taller than most of the men, talking with Mikkos, though she was doing most of the talking, while he stared up at her in open awe, his mouth hanging a little open. He couldn’t imagine what they were saying to one another, but it seemed earnest.  
Neleus was deep in discussion with some of the crew and Neokles, the ex-Athenian polemarch, no doubt talking about wrestling, which Neokles had become obsessed with since he’d got involved with the training school in the city. Neleus would of course want to know all the details of what training they were offering and would have his own opinions to offer on the subject. Alexios thought they would be at it all night.   
More of the crew arrived then, bearing another enormous crater of wine. Alexios had been meaning to ask them where they were finding such vast volumes of the stuff, but he kept forgetting. It was like they had a stash in a cave somewhere – which they probably did. Barnabas was drinking with them, looking slightly more cheerful than he had done. That was promising.  
‘Alexios.’   
He turned and found Arion coming in at the gate and smiled. ‘Chaire.’   
They clasped hands, and Arion said, ‘I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you about Pelias.’  
‘Of course,’ Alexios said.   
Thaletas said, ‘I’ll leave you to it. I need to talk to Boros.’ The lieutenant from the Adrestia was brooding on one side of the courtyard, looking in the direction of Mikkos. Alexios almost wished his lover good luck, but instead he winked at him, and then turned to Arion. ‘Where is Pelias? I haven’t seen him in weeks.’  
‘He’s camping in the Northern Cave, not far from the Stony Sepulchre. I found him by accident when I was out hunting.’ He grinned, and added, ‘That was a near disaster.’ Alexios grinned back as he continued, ‘I’ve spent a bit of time with him since, trying to persuade him to come back to the ship, but he won’t do it. He’s decided he has to go away.’  
‘I don’t blame him, but you should tell him to wait before making a final decision. He has two new advocates for his cause.’  
Arion raised an eyebrow. ‘He does?’  
Alexios said, ‘Yes – Barnabas’ nephew and his friend are here, they said they’d take the matter in hand.’ He gestured across the room then, and glanced across the crowd – that’s when he saw that Mikkos was no longer with Hermippa, but had crossed the courtyard and was talking to Thaletas. Alexios was alarmed, more out of habit than in response to anything visible that suggested there was trouble between the two men. Thaletas seemed to be absorbed in whatever Mikkos was saying, and Mikkos himself was speaking and gesturing with quiet dignity – still unusual behaviour to Alexios' eyes.   
Arion hadn’t noticed that his attention was momentarily caught elsewhere, and asked, ‘You think they'll persuade Barnabas?’  
Alexios pulled his mind back from the other side of the courtyard and said, ‘I think there’s every reason to hope.’ With a wry smile, he said, ‘Neleus has always had a way with Barnabas that I envy.’  
Arion nodded. ‘Then I’ll tell him not to give up hope.’ He paused for a moment as he took a drink, before he said more tentatively, ‘There’s something else I wanted to mention…’  
He trailed off, and Alexios raised his eyebrows. ‘What is it?’  
‘I have a problem that I was going to mention when we first met, but it didn’t seem right to bring it up then; but now that we know one another as men, and as you said you would help me if you could...’ He trailed off, waiting to see what Alexios would say.  
He raised his eyebrows with a slight smile playing on his lips. ‘What is it?’  
Arion said, ‘There’s a bounty on my head – a big one.’  
‘How big?’ Alexios asked. When Arion told him, his eyes widened. ‘What on earth did you do to warrant that? I only know of one other person who ever had a bounty that big on their head, and that was me – and I can’t tell you how many levels of mistakes were involved in gaining it.’  
He grinned, a devilish if slightly embarrassed grin. ‘I can begin to imagine, anyway; but in my case, it was the wrong woman.’   
Alexios groaned. ‘Whose wife or daughter was it?’  
‘The leader of Messara’s daughter, Leila.’ He groaned, and comedically clutched at his heart. ‘Surely made in Aphrodite’s own image. Blonde, curvaceous, intelligent – perfect, in every way. Unfortunately, also married to an Athenian polemarch.’  
Alexios shook his head but was grinning anyway. ‘Arion – what would your mother say?’  
He laughed. ‘I hate to think. I can only hope such gossip can’t reach the underworld or I’ll be roasted in more ways than one when I eventually get to Hades.’  
Alexios laughed at that. ‘And you’ll deserve it!’ Then he asked, ‘What can I do to help? You aren’t going to try to hire me to go down there and sort this leader out, are you?’  
‘No, I couldn’t do that to Leila. She loves her pater too much. No, I was hoping I might join your crew – even just as an oarsman – until this all blows over.’  
‘Of course!’ Alexios said with pleasure. ‘We’ll wait and see what’s going on with Pelias when it comes time to leave Chios, but if he does choose to leave the ship, then you can take his place.’  
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You’re doing me a great favour.’  
‘We’ve all been there,’ Alexios said. ‘I can sympathise.’  
Suddenly, Neokles shouted out, ‘Alexios!’ He was coming towards him. ‘How is it that I never heard you’d won the pankration at the Olympics?’  
Alexios groaned, and resting a hand on Arion’s shoulder, he said, ‘Excuse me. This is going to be a long conversation.’   
Arion grinned and left him to Neokles, with his thousand questions about technique, training, and the men Alexios had competed against. 

It was growing late before he finally extracted himself from the conversation with the ex-Athenian polemarch, and he felt they had well and truly worn out every avenue of discussion. Alexios hoped that he had answered everything he would ever want to know about it, but to judge by how drunk Neokles was, he was not hopeful he'd remember much, and anticipated more discussion later.  
As Neokles tottered away to get more wine, Alexios looked around the courtyard, and saw that if anything, there were more people there now than earlier. Everyone was laughing and talking. Some of the crew were playing at dice, shouting or booing, depending on the roll and their luck. Some musicians had arrived, and were playing a cheery tune.   
‘You finally shook him off,’ Thaletas said from behind him. He’d come from inside the house, the door of which stood open. Alexios could see people seated around the table, still eating. The meal had come and gone unmarked by Alexios and Neokles.   
He smiled fondly at his lover. ‘Yes. I think we exhausted every wrestling and pankration topic there is.’  
Thaletas stood close enough that their arms touched. He looked up at Alexios, love and desire shining in his eyes. ‘I think I’ve had enough of this party.’  
Alexios felt the tightening of desire in his stomach. He grinned down at him warmly. ‘Have you? Then perhaps we should slip away while no one’s looking.’  
‘Alexios!’ Leda called out, and Alexios only just stopped himself from cursing. ‘I need to talk to you.’  
Thaletas laughed, and said in a warm, caressing way, ‘Later.’  
The look they exchanged could have melted rock, before Alexios reluctantly tore himself away and crossed the courtyard to where Leda was sitting with Iola.  
‘Leda. I heard peace had been established between you and your pater once more.’  
‘Of sorts,’ she said tightly. ‘I’ve allowed him back into the house, though he doesn’t deserve it.’ She flushed then, but with resolve, she asked, ‘I wanted to know if you’ve seen Pelias? I’ve been asking everyone, and no one has.’  
‘I know where he is, yes.’  
She looked relieved, though her flush only increased. ‘I was afraid he’d been mauled by a bear or something. Can you get him a message?’  
‘Of course.’  
She was as red as a Spartan banner as she said, ‘Then please ask him to come to the house tomorrow night. I wish to speak to him.’  
Alexios grinned. ‘I’ll make sure he gets the message.’  
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And – please don’t mention it to pater.’  
Alexios assured her he wouldn’t, and then he turned to find Thaletas once more, the whole time planning exactly what he was going to do with him when he got him alone. 

Late that night, back in their hut, both tired but blissfully happy, Alexios said, 'I saw you talking to Mikkos earlier. What was that about?'  
Thaletas said, 'He wanted to apologise to me, amongst other things.'  
Alexios turned his head to face Thaletas, though it was too dark to make out his features. 'Apologise for what?'  
'He's still beating himself up about the first time we went to Lemnos. I told him there was no need. It's so long ago now.'  
'I see,' Alexios said. After a moment, he said, 'Was that all?'  
'No,' Thaletas said quietly. 'He told me about the times you tried to help him. He really feels he owes you his life.'  
Alexios sighed, and for a long time was quiet; it was Thaletas who broke the silence. 'I never realised, when I first knew you, how much kindness there is in you, Alexios. How did you keep that, when the world was so cruel to you? I know you had your moments, but any other man would have snuffed it out completely, never to be rekindled.'  
Alexios caught Thaletas into his arms, and kissed the top of his head. He said softly, 'Because I'm not any other man, I suppose.'


	7. From the South

‘Misthios!’  
Alexios sat up with a start. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was; then Thaletas sat up beside him in the slatted light inside the hut and he remembered. He wondered what had woken them; but the voice came again.  
‘Misthios!’ It was definitely Mikkos, and there was obvious urgency in his voice.  
Alexios pulled on a tunic and scrambled out of the hut. ‘Mikkos?’  
‘I’m outside,’ he said, sounding relieved but still urgent. ‘Barnabas sent me. The Athenians are here!’  
Alexios had pulled open the gate as he was talking. Tersely, he asked, ‘Where?’   
‘They landed near the Mastic Farm. They’re coming ashore!’  
‘Alright,’ Alexios said as soothingly as he could. ‘Run back to the City. Find Demaratus – he’s the chief hoplite; tall man, brown hair – Tell him to prepare the soldiers and assemble at the training grounds. Tell him we’re on our way.’  
Mikkos dashed away, and Alexios hastened to fetch his armour.  
Thaletas had emerged from the hut, and said, ‘It’s time then.’  
Alexios nodded curtly, and they were quiet as they concentrated on putting their armour on.   
When they were both prepared, Alexios said, ‘You should go straight to the men – we need to delay the bastards from reaching the city. I’ll run to the Huntresses Village then follow you.’  
Thaletas nodded and turned to go, but Alexios caught his hand, pulling him back. He took Thaletas’ face between his hands and, for a moment, they looked into one another’s eyes; then Alexios rested his forehead against Thaletas’. Closing his eyes, he said, ‘Be careful, my love.’   
‘You too.’  
They kissed one another, before turning to their respective tasks.

Thaletas reached the training grounds and found around half their men ready and armed. Demaratus was at the camp, urging the men to hurry. His face was drawn with worry. He looked relieved when Thaletas arrived.   
‘Have we any further information?’ Thaletas asked.  
‘Yes. Scouts went to assess their numbers and location. They’re a raiding party, we think; perhaps only two hundred men. They were still coming ashore in the south when our man was there though. It seems they are setting up a camp at the ruined temple of Athena Poliouchos.’  
‘You’ve left a watch on them?’  
‘Of course. Just as you taught us.’ He gave a tight smile.  
Thaletas patted his shoulder briefly, unsmiling himself, before he said, ‘We must stop them from reaching the city before the farmers and their families have time to reach shelter. We’ll take the men to the first defensive position.’  
In their planning, Alexios and Thaletas had noted that there were two points in the southern farmlands that they might be able to hold off a much larger invading force; essentially, the two best defensive positions besides the city walls. Just like at Thermopylae, the topography gave them a natural advantage because it gave only narrow access while being the only way to Chios City from the south.   
Alexios came thundering into the camp then on Phobos, and leapt off while the horse was still moving. ‘The Daughters are going straight to the Forest of Tears. They’ll harry the Athenians from the hills.’  
‘Good,’ Thaletas said, and was about to add that he was about to take the Spartan forces to join them, when a second rider came charging in.  
‘Astyochus sent me. He’s arrived with his five ships,’ the messenger said breathlessly. ‘They’ve started disembarking.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘They’re supposed to be in Mytilene?’  
‘Mytilene has fallen to the Athenians, sir, and Lesbos along with it.’  
‘Malaka,’ Thaletas said, looking at Alexios grimly.  
‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Alexios said crisply. ‘Have the hoplites under Astyochus’ command march out to the second defensive position. You go with him, Thaletas. They won’t know where that is.’ He meant the position closest to the city, and the stronger of the two, where the road entered the Forest of Tears between two steep cliffs running away west and east.   
Thaletas nodded, climbing onto Phobos. Alexios said, ‘I’ll take our men to join the Daughters.’  
Alexios watched Thaletas and the messenger leave the camp, then turned to getting the men into order.

As the two hundred Spartans following Alexios marched out of the camp, the first of the farmers and their families began streaming by on their way into the city. Many of them had planned for such an eventuality, and had already moved their livestock within the walls; they carried with them only the most needful things. It was a pitiful sight nonetheless, for many of the women wept, and the children too; the women, not knowing whether they would see their homes and possessions again, and the children because they didn’t understand what was going on.  
They passed through the farmland and then reached the first defensive position – between two hills covered with a thick growth of trees.  
Hermippa appeared out of the shadows. ‘They’re still disembarking, Leader. We thought we’d wait until they began their approach – an ambush.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘A good decision. Demaratus – get the men in a position to assist.’  
‘Yes, sir.’  
Alexios left them to it, going to get a look at the Athenian numbers for himself.   
They were still disembarking, with some of the men already forming up into their lines. As the scout had suggested, it was almost certainly a raiding party. The Athenians must have felt confident that no one was there to defend the island to be so brazen. He wondered whether it was arrogance, or if they had been deliberately misinformed. It was probably the latter, as it had become apparent that the Leader of Chios, Aetes the Black Lion, was a crafty man who had good connections with the Athenians; he was also not above using them in less than honourable ways. A useful kind of leader to have at such a time, Alexios thought wryly.   
He went back to his forces. All they could do was wait.

It was still early morning when the Athenians were ready to march, and leaving behind a small guard at the ruined temple to keep a watch on their ships and supplies, they marched towards the gap in the hills… and the ambush.   
Alexios slowly shook his head as he saw that they were walking in a less than defensive manner, even carrying their shields on their backs. They had definitely been misinformed, Alexios decided. No polemarch in his right mind would march into hostile territory in such a way.  
Alexios was standing with Hermippa and Demaratus, and as the Athenians drew close, Alexios gave Hermippa the nod. She nodded back and then signalled to the Daughters. There was the subtle sound of arrows being nocked; of strings being pulled tight; then the satisfying sound of them being loosed.  
There were cries from below, several of the front rank fell; the others scrabbled for their shields and hastily got into a defensive formation. The polemarch, who could only just be seen at the rear of the column, gave a shout of surprise as he was pushed aside by one of his aides, narrowly dodging an arrow that had been meant just for him. While they were in this state of confusion, Alexios nodded to Demaratus.  
Demaratus shouted, ‘For honour, Spartans!’ and with a cry that would have appalled any well trained Spartiate, they fell on the nearest Athenians.   
It was over in a moment. The Athenians made only a cursory attempt to repel them before they broke and ran back the way they’d come.  
The Spartan soldiers whooped in victory, and it was only Demaratus’ thinking which stopped them from chasing after the retreating Athenians to their detriment, as he shouted, ‘Halt! We hold this position! Don’t get ahead of yourselves, men!’  
It was a sign of their training that they listened and moved quickly back to their positions.

Night fell without any further action. The scouts reported that the enemy had spent the afternoon reinforcing their camp at the ruins, and had sent a ship out with a message from the polemarch – the scout had seen him hand the letter to the messenger himself.  
Thaletas and Astyochus had come to them in the early afternoon, and the five leaders, including Hermippa and Demaratus, sat down to discuss what they should do the following day. They’d agreed that the two forces should switch places, so that the trained hoplites were on the frontlines the next time the Athenians attempted to enter the Forest of Tears. This switch had been effected in the late afternoon while the Daughters maintained the watch on the road.  
Alexios and Thaletas were seated at the fire in the camp just south of Chios City that night, their shoulders touching, which they both found comforting.   
Alexios said, ‘The polemarch is almost certainly sending to Lesbos for reinforcements.’  
Thaletas nodded. ‘No doubt. There will be a larger force here in the next day or two.’  
Alexios sighed. ‘At least we got all the civilians into the city without anyone being hurt.’  
Thaletas glanced at him and corrected, ‘Most of the civilians.’  
‘What do you mean?’  
‘Leda refused to go. Barnabas and the crew are with her,’ he added when Alexios looked at him in alarm. ‘Even Pelias is there, so I’m told.’  
He shook his head. ‘You surely told them they’re fools?’  
Thaletas said wryly, ‘I made my thoughts pretty clear to Barnabas, yes.’  
Alexios chuckled. ‘That I believe.’ Then he sighed. ‘Why do we surround ourselves with pig-headed people who seem intent on getting themselves killed?’  
Thaletas was still smiling wryly. ‘Like attracts like, I suppose.’ 

It was three days before the Athenians tried again, this time with fifteen hundred hoplites, and they succeeded in breaking through into the farmland, pushing what was left of the Spartan forces back to the second defensive position, at the northern end of the Forest of Tears. They began ravaging the plain – burning crops, firing silos and houses, and killing any unfortunate livestock they found.  
Alexios, covered in blood and sweat, saw the last of his men behind the palisade that had been built at the second position, and then grabbed Thaletas from where he was shouting at some hapless soldier who had dropped his sword in the retreat.  
‘Leave him,’ Alexios barked, shoving one of his own swords into the man’s hands, then dragged Thaletas away. ‘We have to go to the farm.’  
Thaletas scowled at this treatment, but he didn’t argue. They both ran back into the field, littered with the dead, and so smoky, they would never have found their way had it not been for Ikaros.  
The ripening crops of Leda’s farm were still intact, and the crew were scattered in small groups, mostly crouching in the drainage ditches or standing behind silos, watchful and eager for action.  
Thaletas went to speak with Neokles, who he saw nearby, looking to hear the details of what had been going on so far, though it was clear that there had been several attempts by the Athenians to raid the farm; bodies were scattered through the fields, particularly concentrated around the road that ran towards the house, along the sides of which two ditches had been dug and in which the crew waited in ambush, led, Neokles said, by the ex-Spartan polemarch Phylas.  
Alexios meanwhile went to find Leda and Barnabas. He vaulted the back wall into the farmhouse yard and was nearly killed for doing so; at the last moment, Pelias recognised him by the distinctive shape of his Spartan War Hero’s helmet, and dropped his sword.  
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked with relief in his voice.  
‘We came to get you all out of here. The whole area has been overrun by the Athenians.’  
He shook his head, and took off his helmet, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. ‘She won’t go.’  
‘Where is she?’ Alexios asked, and he nodded towards an open door. ‘Barnabas is with her.’  
Alexios thanked him and went in. Leda was standing at a window, clutching at her bow, a large supply of arrows beside her. She heard him come into the room and turned. Her eyes were shining with excitement. ‘What are you doing here, Alexios?’  
‘I’ve come to get you out of here. The Forest of Tears has been overrun by Athens. The Spartan army has been forced back to the second defensive point. You must go to the city; it’s only a matter of time before they break through the defences here, and we’ll be cut off from helping you.’  
She grinned. ‘You have no faith,’ she said. ‘The gods will keep me safe – or the crew will.’  
Barnabas tutted. ‘The gods will give the crew strength. We made our offerings; they will see that the farm is kept safe.’  
Alexios considered telling him he was crazy; but then he had considered doing that when Barnabas had claimed the gods sent him a vision of the places his wife had been – and that vision had been correct, proving that Barnabas had, perhaps, some understanding of things that Alexios didn’t. Perhaps they would be safe.  
He was about to make a last-ditch attempt to persuade them, when Pelias shouted, ‘Alexios!’  
He threw up his hands and went back outside. His lieutenant pointed out the gateway of the yard and down the road that led to the house.   
A small group of Athenians, perhaps six or seven of them, were approaching. They were looking around cautiously. From where he was standing, Alexios could see his crew crouching in the ditches on either side of the road, but it was clear that the Athenians couldn’t.  
They’d walked a short way towards the house when Phylas clambered out of the ditch on his own, and holding his giant labrys, he shouted in his gravelly voice, ‘Turn around, you fuckers, and go back to Hades. You’re not welcome here.’  
The Athenians were at first startled by his appearance, then they looked at one another, foolishly thinking that they had the numbers to be pretty confident. Their leader, a strategos with an impressive plume, grinned.  
Alexios thought it remarkable they didn’t notice the number of dead Athenians already scattered in the area. He found himself moving towards the confrontation to hear what was being said more clearly.  
‘What are you going to do?’ one of the Athenians demanded, ‘Take us all on?’  
Phylas affected a chuckle. ‘You should ask yourselves why I’m so confident to face you alone, don’t you think?’  
The strategos said, ‘That’s a no brainer. You’re a fucking Spartan – you all think you’re invincible!’ Then his eyes slipped over Phylas’ shoulder as he noticed Alexios. ‘Well, look who it is – the bastard leading the army, here for us to pick off.’  
Alexios said dryly, coming up beside Phylas, ‘You couldn’t “pick me off” if you tried for a hundred years.’  
Phylas glanced at him with a grin, then looked back at the Athenians. ‘Come on then. Let’s get this over with.’  
The Athenians poised themselves for battle, shields up, spears at the ready.  
Phylas slowly shook his head, then said, ‘Alright, men.’  
The crew fell on the Athenians, and slaughtered them without anyone even breaking a sweat.  
Alexios looked at his lieutenant with a raised eyebrow. ‘Effective, I’ll give you that.’  
Phylas grinned as he turned to Alexios. ‘Simple is often the best. What are you doing here, anyway?’  
‘The Forest of Tears has been overrun,’ Alexios said. ‘I came to tell you all to get into the city while you still can.’  
Phylas shook his head, his grin not faltering. ‘No need, as you see.’ He gestured to the dead Athenians now slumped in the road. ‘You go take care of the city. We’ve got everything under control here.’  
Alexios sighed, and slapped his shoulder. ‘I see that now. Promise me that if things devolve though, you’ll get Leda into the city?’  
He nodded. ‘Of course, Commander.’  
Alexios nodded, and then went to where Thaletas was waiting for him. They went away together towards the city, keeping to the trees.  
‘What do you think?’ Thaletas asked.  
He sighed, but said wryly, ‘I think if anyone can hold that farm, it’s that bunch of crazy bastards.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:  
> There were three battles on Chios when the Athenians invaded - they occurred at Boliscus, Phanae and Leuconium. None of these places exist on the map in the game, and frankly, there are no details in the history of exactly where these places are, nor what happened during the battles, so I simplified it a lot.  
> Astyochus had, fortunately, returned the day before the first battle - so I have compressed the timeline slightly.  
> All these details come from the usual suspect - Thucydides.


	8. The Shifting Situation

It took the Athenians much of the remaining summer, and another fleet of reinforcements from Lesbos, to push the Spartans back to the city – and it had cost them dearly in lives; on the battlefield and off. Alexios had seen to that. Each night, after the Spartans had returned to the camp, he and Thaletas would go out into the farmlands to assassinate any patrols they might find. It was bloody work, but for once, Alexios hadn’t felt any remorse. He had seen the island reduced to a smoking ruin – he was ready to stand up in front of Hades and account for every life he took that summer.  
The night after the last of the Spartans had retreated into the city, he and Thaletas went to spy on the new camp, which had been constructed right in the heart of the Forest of Tears – a statement which made Alexios grind his teeth.  
He was using Ikaros to listen in on the polemarches, who he hoped he would catch discussing their plans for the following day – nothing much to hear, as it turned out. They were talking about wrestling, and Alexios had had more than enough of that in recent times. He was about to call Ikaros back when the eagle’s attention came to rest on the two guards at the main gate.  
The first guard said, ‘I’m glad they didn’t send me out on patrol tonight.’  
The second guard said, ‘You don’t believe this talk of an evil apparition, do you?’  
‘You’ve just got here,’ the first returned. ‘You haven’t seen how many men don’t come back from patrol. Something has to be taking them.’  
The second guard snorted with derision. ‘Fantasy.’  
‘You’re an idiot,’ the first guard said, ending the conversation.  
As he and Thaletas made their way back towards the city, he told his lover what he had heard, adding, ‘Bet that’s the first time you’ve been called an apparition?’  
‘It is, but I won’t be satisfied until I’m called a “godly curse”,’ he replied with dry humour.  
Alexios laughed and feigned arrogance. ‘You’d have to actually be godly first though, wouldn’t you?’  
Thaletas only shook his head, grinning.

Back in the city, there was organised chaos. To give Aetes the Black Lion his due, he was not only a crafty leader, but also a great organiser. The Chians who were able to man the walls had been positioned around the perimeter on regular shifts, allowing the Spartans to rest and recover from the days of what had felt like endless fighting that had just ended.  
As Alexios and Thaletas slipped down the main thoroughfare towards the port, they saw soldiers sleeping all over the place, propped up against walls and under any piece of cover they could find – including untidily scattered through the small agora and the porticos of the temples.  
Alexios and Thaletas found Aetes deep in discussion with Boros the Great Deceiver as they reached the temporary headquarters building.  
Boros saw them coming and said, ‘We’ve been waiting for you, Commander.’  
Alexios raised his brows in enquiry, and Boros continued, ‘We,’ he indicated Aetes and himself, ‘have been in contact with certain people on Lesbos. We’ve had reliable information that the fleet has left the island, bound for the east.’  
Alexios frowned. He wanted to ask how they’d been able to get news through the Athenian blockade, but he knew that Boros wouldn’t tell him; instead he asked, ‘The mainland?’  
Aetes, who had a booming voice at odds with his small stature, said, ‘Miletus, specifically. They are trying to drive Sparta out.’  
Boros added, ‘Since the treaty with the Great King was signed…’  
Thaletas interrupted. ‘The what?’  
‘You didn’t know about that? Chalcideus on behalf of Sparta met with the Persian king’s satrap, Tissaphernes – the rumours are that the agreement was brokered by your favourite Athenian, Alcibiades – but Chalcideus’ name is on it. The great king is going to be financing a Spartan fleet which will rival the Athenians; and since that treaty was signed, there's been a lot of unrest in the Athenian camp. They know what that means for them.’  
Thaletas looked at Alexios for a long moment, both of them thinking that it would certainly change the course of the war. When he spoke again though, he made no comment on that information, but said, ‘The Athenians have withdrawn from Lesbos to support the attack on Miletus, you said?’  
‘That’s right – though of course, they've left a sizable garrison behind at Mytilene. Our source says it’ll only be a matter of time before they withdraw from here, at least for the winter. They don’t have the supplies to maintain a siege. We just need to stay quiet behind the walls, and wait.’  
Alexios nodded. ‘That’s good to know. Astyochus was eager to ride out tomorrow. Make sure he hears this information tonight. We’ll be at the Abandoned Camp if you need us tomorrow. But please - go to Astyochus first,’ he added with a smile.  
Boros said he would, and Alexios and Thaletas went away out of the city.

They made for the camp through the dark and quiet of the forest. During the preceding days of fighting, they had bunked down with the soldiers whenever they could find a moment, and they were both eager for some privacy. Alexios in particular had never adjusted to being surrounded by people, day and night. His had never been the life of fort and army camp like Thaletas’ had.  
So when they reached the enclosure, and saw a fire glowing inside, smoke curling up into the sky, his first instinct was exasperation, even before he found it in himself to wonder who it might be inside.  
He glanced at Thaletas, and on silent feet, snuck up to the woven reed wall. He slipped up and over, his spear at the ready – but then he saw that it was only Mikkos and Neleus sitting at the fire, and tucked his weapon away.  
‘What are you two doing here?’ he asked mildly. In truth, he thought guiltily, he'd forgotten all about them. Of course, he realised now, they hadn’t been able to get off the island because the Athenians had stopped all merchant vessels leaving the harbour, but that had been the furthest thought from his mind at the time.  
Neleus said apologetically, when he recovered from his alarm at Alexios’ sudden appearance, ‘I hope you don’t mind us staying in the spare shelter?’  
Thaletas had come in the gate as they were speaking, and he said, ‘Of course not; but why didn’t you stay with the crew at the farm?’  
Mikkos said, ‘Boros drove us away. He said we were just getting in the way, but I think it was only because he was angry with me...’  
Neleus interrupted him, ‘Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t.’ Then he said to Alexios, ‘Phylas told us we could stay in the crew’s huts in the Huntresses Village, but I’m not going to lie – those women frighten me. Besides, I wanted to keep this one,’ he gestured with his head at Mikkos, ‘at a safe distance from the Lead Huntress. Arion showed us the way here, and he's been bringing us the news each morning.’  
Alexios smiled and frowned at the same time. ‘What's this business with Boros?’  
Mikkos sighed. ‘Oh misthios,’ he said sadly, looking into the fire. ‘I’m afraid I made a fool of myself again – and I hadn’t even taken any wine.’  
Neleus impatiently said, ‘He made an indecent suggestion to Hermippa. She seemed quite keen - but Boros didn’t.’  
Alexios grinned. He thought Hermippa would, as the saying went, chew Mikkos up and spit out his belt buckle – but then maybe he’d like that. He resisted the urge to chuckle. ‘I see. Well, you made a smart decision to stay out of the way here, then.’  
Thaletas yawned, and said, ‘I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me in the morning, even if the Athenians are at the gate of the camp.’  
Alexios said, ‘I’ll stay up for a while.’ He smiled caressingly at Thaletas then went to sit with the two men at the fire. He took the cup of wine that Neleus offered him. He drank it slowly, the three of them quiet. They were still sitting there when there was the sound of someone pushing the gate open, and Hermippa appeared.  
‘I hope I’m not interrupting,’ she said brusquely, stepping inside without waiting to be invited. ‘I came to speak with you, Mikkos.’  
He flushed to the roots of his hair, but stood, brushing his tunic off. ‘Of course.’  
She held the gate open for him, and then made to follow him. She paused for a moment before stepping out, catching Alexios’ eye and, for the first time since he’d known her, she winked at him, a mischievous grin tilting the corner of her mouth – then they were gone.  
Neleus shook his head, looking sour. ‘This is going to make things awkward.’  
Alexios patted his shoulder and said, ‘Let the man have his moment of happiness.’  
Neleus grumbled under his breath; Alexios caught something about Boros and punching, but he ignored it. ‘I’m going to bed myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.’  
‘Sleep well,’ Neleus said, pouring himself another cup of wine, still grumbling.

It was late in the morning when Alexios woke. He could see by the light shining through a particularly annoying chink in the wall – which had no doubt woken him - the length of Thaletas’ back, the perfect lines of muscle, and the scar which he knew ran from somewhere near his armpit, down his side, before ending in a strange swirling shape just below his left shoulder blade.  
He smiled fondly, remembering the day that Thaletas had got it. He knew his lover would have told anyone who asked that he’d gained it in battle – had in fact heard him say so more than once - but Alexios knew that it was actually the mark of a particularly inglorious moment of Thaletas’ life.  
They'd been training on Hydrea many years before, and Thaletas had slipped off a wall in the pouring rain, and tumbled into a tree. The branches tore through his tunic and his misplaced confidence, and he’d hit the ground with a thud. He’d landed flat on his back, winded, looking up at Alexios where he stood above, looking down from the wall. Alexios hadn’t been laughing at first – not until the worry for Thaletas’ safety was past; but when he saw that he was only superficially wounded, he’d allowed himself a good belly laugh – mostly because of the look of offence Thaletas cast at the wall when he finally sat up again – as though the stones themselves had maliciously pushed him off.  
Alexios had called down to him, ‘What was it you said this morning? “I can climb”?’  
Thaletas hadn’t replied, only picked himself up, scowling, and climbed up the wall once more, this time not slipping. When he’d reached the top, he’d resentfully punched Alexios in the shoulder, which had only made him laugh harder.  
Alexios reached out a hand, touching the swirl of red scar tissue gently. It had been so long before, it felt like a whole lifetime ago.  
Thaletas said, his voice husky with sleep, ‘I had such a long way to go.’  
Alexios kissed his shoulder. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you?’  
‘No,’ Thaletas said, ‘I was just dozing.’ He arched his back in a stretch. 'We should really go into the city, I suppose.’  
Alexios watched his movements and shifted so that he was hard up against Thaletas' back. He kissed his neck. 'In a little while,' he murmured, hands wandering. 'The war can wait.'

Alexios was up and out of the hut first, and he found Neleus and Arion talking at the fire. He said, ‘Arion – good to see you.’  
The young man grinned. ‘Chaire, My King.’ He was poking fun at how late in the morning it was.  
Alexios grinned back, but ignoring the barb, he said, ‘What have you been doing with yourself? I didn’t see you at the farm the last time I was there?’  
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘I’ve not been in any one place for long. I’ve been running back and forth between the huntresses in their village, the crew at the farm and Boros here in the city. I feel I’ve barely sat down for more than an hour together in weeks.’  
‘I’m glad you’re making yourself useful,’ he said. ‘What’s news from the city this morning?’  
‘It’s quiet, just as we expected. The Athenians have stayed in their camp. Astyochus made a truce with Diomedon to retrieve the bodies of the fallen, and they’re burying them as we speak.’  
Alexios stretched his arms above his head with a smile. ‘Well, I guess we won’t bother going into the city then. They know where to find us.’  
Thaletas came to join them, hearing this last part, and smiled. ‘Thank the gods. A moment of respite.’  
‘Careful,’ Alexios said only half joking. ‘Don’t say that too loudly, or the gods will hear you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken a little while! I've had a couple of days off writing - I only took three days off during July, so it was overdue :)
> 
> Historical Notes:  
> As I mentioned in the last historical note, there were three battles on Chios - Boliscus, Phanae and Leuconium. After this, Thucydides says, the Chians no longer came out to fight, and the land was ravaged by the Athenians. I have assumed (within the limited possibilities of the game map) that this would mean the people and what remained of the Spartan forces remained safely behind the walls in Chios City.  
> The island was still blockaded until sometime during the winter - but more about that in the next chapter :)


	9. An Anticlimax

As the summer came to an end, the Athenians withdrew from the island – their fleet was seen disappearing to the south, going to Samos where it was supposed they would remain during the winter. Only a handful of ships stayed behind to maintain the blockade, enough to stop the Chians from sending ships in and out, no more. They hadn’t made even the most cursory attempt on the walls after all; content, it was supposed, with having made an example of the island. They’d crippled the economy for the foreseeable future, and denied the Chians the sea to spread their revolutionary ideas to the other allies who might be considering defecting.  
The continuing blockade caused some political conflict in the city, with many doubting voices raised in the city council, urging that Chios return to the Athenian Empire. Aetes had requested Astyochus to address the council himself, and somehow, he’d convinced the people to hold out for more assistance from Sparta. By the beginning of winter, he’d even persuaded them to accept a Spartan governor, a man called Pedaritus, whose ship had managed to slip through at night, coming ashore via the Huntresses Village. Alexios didn’t really understand why the Chians had agreed to that, nor why they thought it in any way a good thing - especially when Pedaritus arrived and it became clear that he was the worst kind of Spartan, arrogant and high handed – but apparently, they did, and peace was restored.  
The Athenian ships disappeared during the last days of the year, slipping away in the night. No one on Chios knew why; they’d heard little news from beyond the island since the beginning of the blockade. The only news that Pedaritus could be prevailed on to share was that the Spartans under Chalcideus, (and Alcibiades, of course), had successfully held Miletus for Sparta and driven the Athenians away, back to Samos. During one of the later stages of the siege though, Chalcideus had been killed.  
Alexios had allowed himself to feel some pity for Alcibiades; he hoped that the Athenian hadn’t taken the loss of his lover too hard.  
Ships began arriving at the island again, bringing fresh supplies, and many people who had either fled the island, or simply been prevented from coming home, began flooding back. The island began to feel alive once more, as everyone pulled together to help with the rebuilding of farms, homes and silos. There still remained an atmosphere of apprehension though. Rightly, in Alexios’ opinion, the Chians were functioning under the assumption that the Athenians would be back in the coming year.

On a bitterly cold day, amongst this rush and bustle of people coming and going, a ship arrived from Boeotia unnoticed by Alexios as he and the crew were preparing the Adrestia to sail to Thasos. Mikkos and Neleus were eager to get home – not least because of the tension with Boros. They’d been watching the weather for their chance, but the sky was threatening again, and Alexios thought it was looking like they would have to delay the trip once more. This unhappy prognosticating was interrupted by a deep voice demanding, ‘Are you Alexios of Sparta?’  
Alexios winced. Nothing good came from that sentence, spoken with the particular emphasis that was purely Spartan. He turned to find a messenger holding a scroll in one hand.  
‘What is it?’ he asked, hoping that it might just be a message from his family, but almost certain it wouldn’t be.  
‘King Agis of the Spartiates sends him greetings…’  
Alexios groaned and interrupted, ‘You can drop the formality. What does he want me to do now?’  
The messenger, like many before him, looked offended by the lack of due regard for the king, but sniffily, he held out the writ he was holding. ‘He did not say to me. It’s in the writ, which as you can see, retains its seal intact…’  
He would have gone on, but Alexios interrupted him again. ‘Alright, alright. You’ve done well. You can go.’  
The messenger scowled and stalked away, with a sour glance over the shoulder, leaving Alexios to walk up to the bridge and sit down. Thaletas followed him, and sat beside him as he opened up the writ.  
Alexios read it through, his eyes widening, then he shook his head and read it again.  
Thaletas asked, ‘What is it?’  
He looked up then, and said quietly, ‘I’m to assassinate Alcibiades.’  
Thaletas stared at him for a moment. ‘Because of Timaea?’  
He nodded once. ‘She’s had a son, Leontycidas. A son that everyone is saying is Alcibiades’.’  
‘Malaka,’ Thaletas said, half to himself. ‘If you do it, you’ll earn the hatred of Pleistoanax and his supporters…’  
‘But the eternal gratitude of Agis, and his people.’ Alexios sighed, throwing the writ onto the brazier in the centre of the bridge and watching it burn, wishing the order might burn with it.  
Thaletas said quietly, ‘I suppose the moment was always going to come.’  
Alexios raised an eyebrow. ‘What moment?’  
‘When they’d force you to choose a side.’  
‘Yes – I suppose it was; but I don’t think I can do it.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘Why not? You said you hated that malaka.’  
Alexios glanced at him, but didn’t comment. He wasn’t as certain of his feeling as Thaletas seemed to think he was. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt about the devious man anymore. While Alcibiades had aggravated Alexios with his games and lies, especially during the situation that had involved the brothers, he’d come to see that Alcibiades had probably only been doing what he thought necessary to survive – and Alexios was a big enough man to acknowledge that this had in no way been easy for him since he’d been forced to seek asylum in Sparta. He couldn’t help but distrust him, that much was true, but hate? No. He was surprised to discover he might actually pity him more than anything else.   
Thaletas saw that he wasn’t going to answer the question, so asked, ‘Do you know where he is?’  
Alexios said moodily, ‘Miletus.’  
‘We could go there after Thasos…’  
Alexios said curtly, ‘I’ll think about it.’ Barnabas had just arrived at the ship, followed by Pelias so he stood, leaving Thaletas frowning by the fire, and walked over to meet the captain. He gestured at the sky. ‘What do you think?’  
Barnabas said, ‘The weather’ll clear when the sun’s past the meridian. We should sail today, Commander.’ He grinned – he was always cheerful when they were due to sail anywhere.  
Alexios said, ‘Good. I’ll send someone to fetch Mikkos and Neleus then.’  
‘Already done, Commander.’  
Alexios slapped him on the shoulder. ‘What about Leda and Pelias?’  
Barnabas looked over at the lieutenant, who was talking with cheerful animation to Neokles. He smiled faintly. ‘He said he’d talk to you before we sail, but I’ve given them my blessing. They’re both as stubborn as each other and refused to see sense.’  
Alexios smiled. ‘Love will do that, I suppose. But I’m glad. You did the right thing.’  
Barnabas nodded, and then turned to his duties, leaving Alexios to approach Pelias and Neokles.  
‘Barnabas said you wanted to talk with me, Pelias?’  
Pelias’ face was transformed since the last time Alexios had seen him at the farmhouse during those difficult days of fighting off the Athenians, and even earlier, during the months before they’d come to Chios. He grinned happily. ‘Yes. I’m sure you know why.’  
‘You’re going to tell me you’re turning farmer, I suppose?’  
Pelias chuckled. ‘I intend to. If you need me to stay on for a time, I can…’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘It’s worked out perfectly. Arion needs a place for a while, so he can take up your position as soon as you like.’  
Pelias nodded. ‘Leda will be happy about that.’  
Alexios rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘I hope you’ll both be very happy.’  
‘Thank you, Commander. I’m sure we will.’  
‘You better get used to calling me Alexios from now on,’ he said with a grin as he turned away, and walked over to Thaletas, who was still frowning over the fire. ‘I’m going to fetch Arion at the Stony Sepulchre, then we can sail.’  
Thaletas stood. ‘I’ll come with you.’  
As they made their way north of the city, Thaletas said, ‘I don’t understand.’  
‘What?’ Alexios asked.  
‘Why you’re hesitating.’  
Alexios glanced back at him, and said, ‘About assassinating Alcibiades?’  
‘Yes. After the situation in Athens with those shit-eating brothers, all the lies and deception you’ve told me about, then what he’s done to Sparta and Agis… I just thought I understood how you felt about him, I suppose; and now I see that I didn’t.’  
Alexios considered this for a long moment before he said, ‘I feel about him the same way I feel about Sparta, I suppose.’  
That surprised Thaletas. ‘What do you mean?’  
Alexios smiled slightly. ‘I mean, they’ve both done wrong by me before, but I still feel some affection towards them anyway.’  
Thaletas shook his head, but sighed to himself. He knew this was going to be one of those things, like many of Alexios’ more complicated feelings, that he would never understand. The more years that passed, the more he had come to see that love was as much about respecting their, at times, wild differences as it was about loving the things they shared.   
They were silent for a long while; at last Thaletas asked, ‘What are you going to do, then?’  
‘I can’t say no to Agis, can I? Not when his honour is in tatters,’ Alexios said reluctantly. He gave a deep sigh. ‘I’ll have to do it, I suppose.’  
Thaletas rested a hand on his arm for a moment in silent solidarity; acknowledging the difficulty Alexios felt, even though it made no rational sense to him.

As they neared the Stony Sepulchre, sounds of fighting reached them, and Alexios looked back at Thaletas as he took out his weapons. They burst out of the undergrowth, and found Arion engaged with two mercenaries: a very large woman wearing a bull-horned helmet, and a small man with poisonous blades. Alexios shouted, startling the two mercenaries – just enough to allow Arion to stab them both in the neck at once with his two daggers.  
Arion was breathing heavily as he said, ‘Thank to gods you came along!’ He wiped his daggers on his tunic and then sheathed them as he asked, ‘What brings you here just as I was starting to think I was done for?’  
Alexios said, ‘You’re needed on the ship.’ Then he said thoughtfully, ‘We really have to do something about this bounty on your head.’  
Arion grinned. ‘Oh, I don’t know – it makes my life more interesting.’ Then he frowned. ‘On the ship?’  
‘Pelias has given notice. He’s been released – if you still want his place?’  
Arion grinned. ‘Of course. I’ll get my things.’

As the three men walked back towards the city together, Thaletas said quietly, ‘We should go to Crete next year.’  
Alexios smiled. ‘Just what I was thinking.’  
Arion said in alarm, ‘Anyone would think you wanted to get me killed!’  
Alexios laughed. ‘I could have just let those two finish you off, if that’s what I wanted! I think that between us,’ he indicated Arion, Thaletas and himself, ‘we can work something out with the leader down there. I never met a leader yet who wasn’t willing to make a deal – even when a young woman’s virtue was involved.’  
Arion said doubtfully, ‘If you think you can do it…’  
Alexios interrupted with a grin, ‘You’ll learn Arion - I can do anything.’  
Thaletas corrected dryly, ‘We.’  
Alexios glanced at him with a grin. ‘Sorry – we. We’ll fix it.’

The Adrestia was about to cast off when there was a shout from the dock, and Alexios frowned down at the small boy, vaguely familiar, who was standing there, waving at him. He leapt over the railing of the bridge and went over to where the boy stood. ‘What is it?’  
The boy took out a scroll and shyly handed it to him. ‘A message for you; from Miletus.’  
Alexios’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Miletus? Alcibiades, you mean?’  
The boy nodded, and then scampered away into the crowd.  
‘Do we need to wait, Commander?’ Barnabas hollered from the bridge.  
Alexios looked up at him. ‘No – cast off.’  
As the rowers belowdecks bent to their work, and the Adrestia lurched away from the dock, Alexios unrolled the scroll and read:

My dear Alexios,  
By the time this reaches you, you’ll have received your orders from Agis, and I will have left Miletus for friendlier fields. When Chalcideus was killed, I knew my time with Sparta was at an end. Still, I didn’t think that it would be you that they sent after me; but then, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. All you Spartans have a bloody-minded sense of humour, and Agis more than most.  
I wish to ask a favour, if you can believe my cheek: not that you should forebear trying to kill me, which of course you must try to do, and will probably succeed at one day; but for the friendship we once shared, I ask that you look out for my son, Leontycidas. Treat him well, teach him to be a good Spartan. One day he will be your king, and he will need all the help he can get in that snake pit.  
Farewell, Alexios.

Alexios returned to the bridge and threw this letter, too, onto the fire. To Thaletas, he said, ‘We needn’t travel to Miletus after all. Someone tipped Alcibiades off, and he’s fled the city.’  
‘Malaka! That just makes the task harder. We’ll have to track him down, and who knows where he’ll be.’  
‘If there’s one thing I know about Alcibiades,’ Alexios said with reluctant humour, ‘It’s that we need only wait. We’ll hear where he is as soon as he starts making trouble again.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes:  
> Sorry this chapter feels like a summary - I had to cover a lot of stuff before proceeding with the next part of the story. It's called 'An Anticlimax' for more than one reason lol  
> Alcibiades did defect from Sparta during this year, 412BCE, though when exactly (like most dates in the histories) is unclear. It was said that he was driven to it by a combination of Agis’ enmity and the retirement of Endius from the ephorate. The trouble with the latter reason is that Endius was called an ephor in the histories the year before too, but an ephor only served for one year and couldn’t be re-elected, so he could only have been the ephor in 413 or 412, not both. A minor point really, lol, but the devil’s in the details :-)  
> The orders to have Alcibiades murdered were sent to Astyochus, but Thucydides says that Alcibiades received a warning and fled well in advance. It is certain that he would have known well in advance that his time was nearly up with Sparta though.  
> It is still a contested historical fact that Leontycidas was Alcibiades’ son, though Plutarch certainly didn’t have much doubt about it a few hundred years later. Despite the gap between the events and the time Plutarch wrote his ‘Lives’, we know he was working from lost sources, so he (no doubt) had good reasons for thinking it to be true – whether his sources were reliable is another matter… and there you have the basis for academia doubting pretty much everything in the work of ancient historians.  
> Incidentally, Alcibiades is reported as saying, when asked why he had the affair with Timaea, that he wanted ‘his sons to rule the Spartans’. Frankly, thanks to Lysander, he was shit out of luck on that count… But that’s another story.


	10. In the Heart of Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a small addition to the last chapter really.  
> The last couple of chapters of this part are in the works, and will be published soon :)

Barnabas had been right, as he always was when it came to the weather. The Adrestia had not got far from Chios when the clouds evaporated, and the blue sky revealed itself above. The air was cold enough to feel cutting against his skin, but Alexios and the whole crew had prepared by donning fur wraps - a set of garments Alexios had commissioned for the whole crew from the man who worked magic with Chian bear pelts. The result was an unusually furry look that had raised more than a few brows in Chios City as the men had assembled at the dock, but Alexios was quite pleased with it. It went with the showy paint job he was so proud of, and which Thaletas still viewed with a raised brow and a shake of the head. Neither element could be called 'Spartan', in any case.

‘Misthios,’ Mikkos called from where he was seated behind Alexios on the bench at the back of the bridge.  
Alexios turned, indicating that Thaletas should take his place as Commander (which he did with a nod) and Alexios went to sit beside Mikkos.  
‘What is it?’ he asked as he looked Mikkos over closely. He saw no signs of sea sickness, which he'd expected. Though of course older than the first time they had met, Mikkos had aged surprisingly well, and still retained the charm which had attracted Alexios in the first place - which rested in the strange play between his open, direct gaze, and his shy smile which belied a very extroverted nature; though Alexios acknowledged that Mikkos looked anything but extroverted at that moment, as he bashfully squeezed out, ‘I feel strange talking to you about this, but.... you’re really the only person I know who might understand...’  
Alexios said encouragingly, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind?’  
He gave a grateful smile, and then sighed. ‘How did you do it? Walk away from love? It seems impossible.’  
Alexios looked at him with an eyebrow quirked. With quiet humour, he said, ‘I’m probably the worst person to ask, Mikkos. My solution was to burn half the Greek world to the ground. I advise you not to do that - it doesn’t help.’  
Mikkos managed a smile, but he said, ‘Really Alexios - what should I do?’  
Alexios glanced at him before he sighed himself and looked out over the waves towards the distant hump of Lemnos. He thought about it for a long moment, seemingly grappling with his thoughts, before he replied. He looked embarrassed as he said, ‘I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but...’ He still hesitated.  
After another pause, Mikkos prompted, ‘Yes?’  
Alexios blurted out, ‘I think that love is in everything, Mikkos; not only between us and a lover, but as we’ve seen on Chios, the people we live with, our families, our friends, our communities, even the animals we care for.’ He cleared is throat, and said more loudly, ‘If we lose a lover, we hurt of course; but love, Mikkos - love is in the heart of all things.’  
‘Alexios,’ Mikkos said, his eyes wide, ‘Have you been reading poetry?’  
Alexios laughed to cover his embarrassment. He stood, and moved back to his position at the helm, but over his shoulder he cast Mikkos a grin and said, ‘Of course not! It was just a thought.’  
Thaletas stepped aside to allow him to resume his place, and for a moment all was quiet; but then Alexios caught Thaletas looking at him with one of his fond, warm looks.  
'What?' he asked with a smile, but a slight defensiveness in his voice.  
Thaletas shook his head, and said warmly, 'You; the legendary Eagle Bearer full of sweet thoughts.'  
Alexios gave him a reproachful look and muttered something under his breath, before turning back to the sea and closing the subject.


	11. When Artemis Turned her Back

Winter 411 BC

The Adrestia was sailing back to Chios at last late on a winter afternoon. They’d been held up on Lemnos for weeks, waiting for the weather to clear; they’d all been nervous about what was going on back on Chios in their absence, especially Barnabas; but now that they were nearing their destination, there was a definite cheerful air amongst the crew as they sang their old favourite about the mighty minotaur. The choice of song was in part due to Alexios having announced to them that, as soon as the spring arrived and the storms cleared, they would be sailing for Crete. That island was home to many of the crew members, and there had been much nostalgic talk since which had made Alexios smile to himself; tinted with the rose-coloured glasses of long absence as it was.  
His good mood was brought up short by a scream from Ikaros above, and a moment later, Alexios cursed, calling out, ‘Oars up! Slow!’  
‘What is it?’ Thaletas and Barnabas demanded at the same time.  
‘The Athenians. A blockade,’ he said curtly, before adding, ‘A serious blockade this time.’  
‘How serious is serious?’ Thaletas asked.  
‘Thirty war vessels, and five troop carriers.’  
He frowned. ‘Five troop carriers… that could mean… a thousand land troops.’  
Alexios nodded, and for a long moment he considered what they should do, before he said, ‘Well – we won’t know anything sitting here. We’ll just have to break through. We’ll try from the north; there’ll be less attention on that end of the island.’  
They sailed north and then turned east in preparation for an approach to the island, but Ikaros gave another scream. Alexios cursed again. ‘Seems the army are encamped in the north – in the Daughters’ forest. They’ve begun building a fortification there.’  
Thaletas looked confused. ‘Hermippa wouldn’t have allowed that.'  
Alexios said grimly, ‘No, she wouldn’t have.’  
‘By the gods!’ Barnabas exclaimed in a low voice, ‘What have Pedaritus and Astyochus been doing!’  
Alexios shook his head. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Then he shouted out, ‘Lower the oars! We’re going to break through this blockade!’  
The crew cheered, and the Adrestia began to move again.

It was a messy scrap between three, quick pentercosters and the Adrestia; but as always, the Adrestia triumphed and they were able to dock near the Huntresses Village while the Athenians ships slowly settled on the seabed and the sharks had their feast.   
In the early evening light, Alexios dashed away towards the village, Thaletas close behind him. The place was empty of life, and more worryingly still, there were a row of fresh new graves near the cliff on which Alexios had once fought Daphne for the leadership of the Daughters. He felt the worry he had had on the ship, when he’d first spotted the fortifications, settle into something else – he felt nauseous with guilt. He knew there had been a battle for the forest – of course there had - and he, the leader of the huntresses, had not been there with them.   
‘They must be in the city,’ Alexios said quietly, more with hope than faith that it would be true. The Daughters were not likely to accept life in a house, behind walls, no matter how brief a time it might be for.  
As they passed swiftly along the path towards Chios City, dodging Athenian patrols, he saw nothing to remove the heavy feeling of worry. It was clear that Thaletas’ estimate of a thousand was probably not far off - The groups on patrol were four or five in number, and they passed regularly; only such a large number of soldiers could have driven the Daughters out of the forest though, Alexios thought.  
Ikaros warned them that there was a siege underway, though the Athenians were seemingly only interested in keeping the Chians within the walls rather than breaking into the city, as no siege works were in place beyond a wooden palisade.   
They crouched behind a silo for a short while, watching the passing patrols along the palisade.   
‘We need to know what’s been going on,’ Alexios said in a whisper. ‘Aetes will know.’  
Thaletas nodded slowly as he watched the patrols passing. ‘It shouldn’t be hard to get past these idiots.’  
Alexios snorted with derision, and a moment later, he indicated a gap and that they should go. Unseen in the lowering darkness, they scaled the walls and slipped into the city.

The streets were in a state of quiet turmoil. There were men manning the walls; patrols of Spartan soldiers passing along the streets, many of them stopping to greet Alexios and Thaletas warmly, glad to see them back; the same could not be said for the large number of mercenaries who seemed to have gathered in the city and who lounged about in small groups and stared warily at them as they passed, eyes narrowed.  
‘Why do you suppose they’re here?’ Thaletas asked quietly.  
Alexios said sourly, ‘No doubt the governor thinks he’s going to need more muscle than can be provided by the men we trained.’ He added bitterly, ‘Who would have thought a few hundred freed helots aren’t enough to defend a whole island?’  
‘I’d laugh, if it wasn’t too bitter to laugh about,’ Thaletas said.  
Alexios led the way towards the largest house in town, where Aetes the Black Lion lived. He was still the leader of the pro-Spartan faction, but he had in all other ways been replaced in his position by Pedaritus since the governor’s arrival. The two men, before the Adrestia had sailed, had been on seemingly good terms, but Alexios knew that what Aetes seemed to feel, and what Aetes did feel were two different things.  
They knocked on the door of his house, and a slave opened it, letting them in when he saw who it was. ‘My master is upstairs,’ he said, ‘He will be happy to see you.’  
They thanked him and went up the stairs that the slave indicated, emerging onto a covered rooftop where Aetes was leaning against the balustrade with an amphora in one hand. He turned when he heard their approach, and smiled, albeit a little wanly when he saw it was them.  
‘You’re back,’ he said. ‘That must have been something to see.’  
Alexios nodded soberly. ‘There are three less ships in the blockade than there was this morning.’ He accepted a kylix of wine from the leader, drank and then passed it to Thaletas before he asked, ‘What’s been going on since we left? Things seem to have gone a long way backwards.’  
Aetes shook his head. ‘They have. It was perhaps three days after you sailed for Lemnos when the blockade slipped back into place, the noose tighter than before. Astyochus had sailed out to make trouble for the Athenians – without Pedaritus’ approval, either - raiding a few settlements and trying to do some damage to their ships, largely unsuccessfully. He only stopped when his ships got caught in a storm and almost didn’t make it back at all – three Athenian triremes were wrecked on the shore in the south during the same storm – that’s how lucky he was to escape destruction. Of course, Pedaritus was livid, ranted at Astyochus in a demeaning way, claiming he was an irresponsible child. Astyochus of course took it very badly. The two of them weren’t speaking at all for several days.’   
He rolled his eyes before continuing. ‘Anyway - that’s when the herald from Lesbos arrived to speak with Astyochus, asking for aid - they knew he was Agis’ man of course, and that Agis had promised to help Lesbos. He enthusiastically agreed - without consulting Pedaritus, again. Of course, that went over badly. There was more bickering – Pedaritus claiming that Astyochus only wanted to involve the Chians for his own glory and some other very nasty things about Agis which would have got him executed in Sparta I expect. Naturally, Astyochus lost his temper, stormed out of the meeting, and declared that he wouldn’t help the Chians ever again, even if they begged him for it.’  
‘Where is he now?’   
Aetes said dryly, ‘If you can believe it, he’s gone to Miletus to take over the Chief Admiral’s position. If he means to stick to his word, then Chios will be in serious trouble.’  
Thaletas frowned. ‘He’ll surely help if Pedaritus asks for aid though ?’  
Aetes snorted. ‘Seems not. Pedaritus has written to Astyochus twice since then, demanding that he send ships to break the blockade, and both times the answer has come back that he should go to Hades.’ He sighed heavily. ‘When the last reply arrived, Pedaritus wrote to Pleistoanax and the ephors, reporting Astyochus for misconduct. Whether they do anything about it in time to save the city is anyone’s guess – they will certainly be too late to prevent the fort from being built.’ He sighed again and took a deep drink before he continued, ‘The fact is, the Athenians are gaining in strength daily – they’ve been taking in defecting slaves by the dozen; and meanwhile, Pedaritus refuses to march out after the defeats last year, even with his expensive army of mercenaries.’  
Thaletas said angrily, ‘So that’s his plan? Pray to the gods that Astyochus either changes his mind, or Sparta gets him into line - and in the meantime, just let the Athenians do what they want here?’  
Aetes raised an eyebrow and gave a bitter smile. ‘You read the situation well, but I’d be careful saying those kinds of things in public.’  
‘What do you mean?’  
‘Pedaritus is growing paranoid. He thinks there are pro-Athenian plotters on the island, and I heard this morning that he’s writing a list.’ The way he said it made it clear he was talking about a proscription list. He continued, ‘If I were you, I’d take my people, and get off this island as soon as you can. We’ll be trying to negotiate an evacuation of women and children with the Athenians behind Pedaritus’ back, but I doubt they’ll allow it. We are in too weak a position to have much to bargain with.’  
Alexios looked at Thaletas for a long moment, then Alexios said to Aetes, ‘It’s that serious?’  
Aetes nodded. For a long moment they were quiet, before Alexios gave a slow nod to Thaletas, deciding between them that they should take the advice. They both knew that if the fort was completed, which would almost certainly be the case, then there would be next to no chance of reclaiming the island from Athens. They would come down on the Chians, the very masterminds of so many troubles in the region, without mercy.  
Alexios said, ‘Do you happen to know where the Daughters are?’  
Aetes looked at Alexios with compassion, which made his stomach drop. ‘They fought against the Athenians until they could fight no more… Those who survived are staying with your crew members at the training gymnasium.’  
Alexios thanked him and they turned to leave, but Thaletas paused, and turned back to ask, ‘What about you? Will you come with us?’  
He smiled. ‘No. I’m wedded to Chios; her fate is mine. I’ll stay and see what happens.’ He patted Thaletas on the shoulder as he said grimly, 'It's been a pleasure knowing you both.'

The training gym was inside one of the warehouses in the Boupalos Shipyard. When they reached it, they saw that the large doors on one side of the warehouse were thrown open, and the crew members – the older men who had volunteered to stay behind while the Adrestia went to Lemnos – were training as though the city were not under siege at all. They stopped what they were doing when they saw Thaletas and Alexios approaching out of the darkness though, and gave a cheer of enthusiastic greeting.  
While there was a rush of exchanged news, Hermippa appeared from upstairs. She had a broken arm, and was covered in cuts and bruises. She was stony faced, but in her eyes, there was only rage.  
Alexios excused himself from the crew and went to her at once, and against all precedent, he put a hand out and rested it on her arm. ‘I am happy to see you alive, my friend.’  
She woodenly nodded. ‘I’m alive, but too many of my sisters are in Hades.’  
‘How many others made it through?’  
‘Three,’ she said, her voice wobbling with emotion as tears welled in her eyes which she dashed away impatiently. ‘I’m sorry, leader. I failed you, I failed my sisters.’  
Alexios said firmly, ‘No. You failed no one. You were fighting against a rising tide. I know that you did everything you could. I am sorry that I wasn't here with you.’  
She said tersely, ‘Don't try to make me feel better by blaming yourself. I have defended these islands for years without you or Daphne before you. I failed - I alone.' Before he could say anything to this, she continued, 'Artemis has decided that the forest should be lost - we must all accept it. We will make one final sacrifice to her, and then we must leave this place.’  
Alexios nodded sadly. ‘Agreed. We were coming to say that's what we had planned. We should sail before the Athenians realise the Adrestia is here.’  
‘Where are you anchored?’  
‘At the village; but we'll slip into harbour after the middle of the night and board as many as we can from here.’  
‘Good,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘My sisters and I will come with you to the village – together we can make the sacrifice - then join the ship.’  
Alexios agreed to this, and she went back upstairs; meanwhile Alexios turned to Thaletas, and said, ‘I’m going with the Daughters to the village, and then we will come on the ship form there. You must find Alcinous and Leda and persuade them to come with us.’  
Thaletas could see the darkness in Alexios’ face – he knew that he felt some responsibility for what had happened to the Daughters, and he wished he could do something to ease the sense of guilt; but it wasn’t the time or place. Instead, he stuck to business, and said, ‘I have a crew member already on his way to the house where their families are staying. They’ll be here when you get back.’  
Hermippa and the other three women came downstairs just as Alexios unexpectedly reached out to Thaletas’ face. He caressed his cheekbone with a thumb for a moment, holding his gaze. Alexios felt that he was taking a deep drink of the love that he saw there. It soothed the heavy feeling resting in his chest; he breathed a little easier.  
Then he dropped his hand. ‘I’ll see you before the middle of the night,’ he said, as he and the women disappeared into the darkness outside the warehouse.

Thaletas was waiting on the dock of the harbour when Leda came to join him. For a long moment, they stood silently side-by-side, looking out accross the sea beyond the headland, lit by a sliver of moon.   
Thaletas turned to her for a moment and asked, ‘Have you decided to come with us?’  
She said quietly, sadly, ‘We have nothing here anymore. They burnt the house, the silos, even the outbuildings this time. We'll just have to take our chances in Attika. At least I have something left to me, unlike so many of these people.’  
Thaletas said equally quietly, gazing out away into the distance, ‘We’ll speak with Agis at Dekelia. You’ll be left alone.’  
She didn’t say anything to that, and he didn’t blame her. How many times had she thought she was safe from the ravages of war, only to have everything snatched away again? How many times had the whole Greek world? The war was now running into its twenty-first summer. He wondered if it would ever end.  
The Adrestia appeared then, slipping around the headland, and Thaletas sighed with relief before saying to Leda, ‘We'd better get everyone down here.’  
She nodded, and they turned together to the warehouse.

Everyone was aboard – all the crew, what remained of the Daughters, and Leda, Alcinous and everyone they loved and cared for. The deck was crowded, but fortunately Poseidon smoothed the waters, and the sea lay like a silvery blanket before them to the far horizon.  
‘Where are we going?’ Thaletas asked from his position beside Alexios at the bridge.  
‘The Fishing Village in Malis first, where the Daughters can join their kin; then to Attika; then, just as we planned, to Crete for the summer. I hear the war has passed the southern island by; I’m looking forward to a little peace – dealing with a few mercenaries, a crooked leader, nothing that we couldn’t do blindfolded.’  
‘Do you think Agis will leave you alone about Alcibiades?’  
Alexios shook his head, allowing the shadow of a smile cross his face. ‘I don’t care if he does. We don’t know where he is, and I need a break. We can always say we heard he went south.’ He shrugged. ‘If we’re lucky, he won’t be able to find us until the end of the year anyway.’  
As they were speaking, the ship was moving northwards past the Huntresses Village dock.  
Thaletas suddenly said, ‘What that?’  
Alexios didn’t look in the direction he pointed – towards where the village nestled in it’s low, water logged position. He knew what he meant. ‘The village is burning. It was sacrificed to Artemis.’  
Thaletas looked at him for a long moment, and Alexios glanced at him reassuringly. ‘It’s all quite normal, so I’m told.’  
As the Adrestia sailed out to sea, many of the passengers and crew watched the glowing of the fire until it disappeared into the greater darkness of the night. They all felt the melancholy symbolism of the moment; the ending of a significant chapter in all their lives, and each was left to mourn Chios in their own way as the sail was dropped, and before long, even the silhouette of the island was lost to view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:
> 
> All the details come from my favourite Athenian General (disgraced and exiled), Thucydides.  
> The argument and subsequent back and forward between Pedaritus and Astyochus really happened. The Spartans responded by sending eleven advisors to Astyochus at the start of the campaigning season. To put that into context, Brasidas was one of three commisioners many years before when an admiral had failed Sparta. Eleven is (in my opinion) an overreaction but says everything for how important what was going on in that part of the Aegean was to Sparta at the time. They were given permission to depose Astyochus if they thought it necessary, but they didn't. He was never entirely popular though.  
> Pedaritus executed a number of so-called 'pro-Athenians' that winter, and for as long as he remained governor, the Chians were terrified. He was basically a tyrant (in it's modern meaning). He did eventually ride out, attacked the Athenian wall (that was protecting their ships) and was killed in the process, along with many Chians. This achieved only a firmer blockade, causing a terrible famine. Needless to say, perhaps, Chios fell to Athens in the end.


	12. Epilogue: Crete

Early Autumn, 410BC

Thaletas woke before dawn. Though it was early, the day already promised to be unpleasantly hot. These were, the locals promised, the last burning days of summer. The heat would soon break; autumn was promised by the first light, shifty rain shower which had come the day before, sweeping in from the north before burning up on Crete’s baking mountains. He had viewed this optimistic view with doubt. It had done nothing to cool the air, but had instead made it humid which, Thaletas thought, was infinitely worse.  
The air was stale inside the hut in Kydonia. It was a tiny fisherman’s hut at the top of the cliffs above the agora, at the eastern end of town. As he rubbed his face to wake himself up, Thaletas thought again of the day he had rented it. The owner was a very old man, who had eyed the armour of Achilles which Thaletas was wearing, gleaming in the sun, with evident doubt.  
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like something a little nicer?’ he’d asked in a raspy voice, the voice of a man who had spent his entire life on the sea.  
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Thaletas had said firmly, and the man had taken his coin with a shake of the head; though as he’d shuffled away, he was still muttering to himself. He’d seen him a couple of times since in town, and he’d always asked if he was happy with the hut as though he expected Thaletas to say no.  
He sat up then, feeling the humid air pressing against his face already, and looked over to where Alexios slept, stretched out on his front, face turned away, on a separate pallet. He was wearing the same faded dark grey tunic he’d had on for days, sweat stained and shabby. As far as Thaletas knew, he hadn’t washed – though he couldn’t be sure, because one of the few places Alexios went while Thaletas was off earning coin was down to the seafront. So far as he had ever seen, all he did down there was loiter around on the jetty, throwing rocks into the sea – but perhaps he swam sometimes.  
Thaletas sighed, and frowned. Thinking about what Alexios did – or didn’t do – always left him feeling worried, and frustrated, in more ways than one.  
He put on a fresh tunic, then took up his armour from where it was stacked neatly beside the door and stepped outside to dress in the first yellow light of the morning.  
They’d come to Crete as planned, arriving in the last days of winter. They’d gone to Malis, then Attika, before Thaletas had insisted that they should go on to Sparta for the winter, to see the family before heading south.  
As he pulled on his greaves, he frowned. The early stages of the journey had been hard for everyone, the melancholy events on Chios having affected them all deeply; but as the distance increased between the ship and the island, most of the crew began to be more cheerful; even Thaletas had felt some relief at putting the situation behind them.  
He straightened and slung the pteruges around his waist, carefully tying it up. The same could not be said for Alexios, he thought with a sigh; if anything, he’d grown worse, retreating still further into his melancholy. He’d briefly seemed to recover when they were in Attika, but it had only lasted a day or two before he sunk again into taciturnity. Even Sparta had failed to shake him out of it.  
As he shrugged into his breastplate, Thaletas smiled to himself thinking of the frenetic energy of the family at the House of Leonidas. Kassandra and Vettius had a second child who was perhaps more fractious even than Leon had been, and Leon himself was a toddling, screaming nightmare, as Stentor described him. Consequently, no one in the household got much sleep. Meanwhile, Myrrine and Nikolaos were at loggerheads with one another over something or other; Stentor had only shrugged when Thaletas asked him what it was about. He said none of them knew exactly, only that Nikolaos was becoming forgetful and Myrrine had no patience with him. Stentor himself was his usual, grouchy self, despite being newly married to a quietly pretty, but snarky woman named Aralia. They seemed fond of each other, despite the inherent difficulties of Spartan marriage, and their mutually combative personalities.  
Thaletas’ smile faded as he finished putting on his breastplate. Of course, they had all been so caught up in their own busy lives, they didn’t notice that Alexios wasn’t himself. Thaletas had intended to talk about it with Stentor, as he did with many things, or perhaps Nikolaos; but the weeks had passed and the right moment, or the right words, had never come.  
He finished checking all the ties, then sheathed his sword which he took off a rack against the wall. The family had viewed Alexios with well disguised doubt when he’d announced that he didn’t intend coming back to Sparta again. Only Thaletas heard him seriously, with frowning concern.  
That night, in their cave, he’d cautiously asked, ‘You don’t mean it, about never coming back?’  
Alexios had looked into the fire and shrugged, saying in a flat voice, ‘You don’t have to come with me. You can stay here.’  
Thaletas had felt his heart lurch at the words, but he said firmly, ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m coming with you.’  
He’d half nodded, a shadow of a nod really, then without another word, he’d rolled himself into a bear pelt and appeared to go to sleep.  
The sun was just peeping over the mountains, and Thaletas paused to take a drink from the barrel by the door. He had a long walk ahead, to the temple of Britomartis, where he was going to collect on a completed contract…  
That was another thing, he thought unhappily. They’d come to Crete with the intention of sorting out the trouble with the leader of Messara and clearing the bounty on Arion; and while Alexios had done some small tasks associated with that, Thaletas had done most of the work. Their relationship had always been one of equals, working together towards a common goal; but now, Alexios did nothing at all, and Thaletas had been unable to shake him out of his refusal to work. He’d tried everything – reasoning, persuasion, and eventually anger, though he was ashamed to remember those times. Alexios had listened with intolerable sadness on his face. He never said a word. He just shrugged and went out – leaving Thaletas feeling more frustrated than there were words for. Later, when his temper cooled, he just felt like an asshole.  
All of this would have been bearable – or more so – if there had been any kind of intimacy between them, but Alexios had not only stopped talking to him in more than cursory ways, and helping with the work, he’d also withdrawn from him physically.  
Thaletas grimaced. At first, he had tried to pretend that everything was normal, and had tried to initiate things. Each time, Alexios would just pull him into an embrace that felt, at best, half-hearted; at worst, like he was acting out of obligation. That had been the hardest thing to accept, he thought – the continual rejection. After a time, he couldn’t cope with it anymore, and had insisted that they should sleep apart, and Alexios had accepted it without comment; but even though he’d suggested it, Thaletas hated every moment of it. He sometimes thought he saw regret in the way Alexios looked at him, but Thaletas was too proud to try and talk to him about it.  
Alexios came out of the hut then, bringing Thaletas back to the moment. He’d fallen into a stare, forgetting he was meant to be going somewhere. Alexios was blurry with sleep.  
Their eyes met, and Thaletas said, ‘Chaire.’  
He nodded unsmiling, flopping onto a stool on the opposite side of the door from the barrel. ‘Where are you going?’  
‘Britomartis,’ he said curtly. ‘Meeting the polemarch for payment.’  
Alexios eyed him a moment, grunting. ‘We’re out of meat again. I’ll go hunting today.’  
‘Fine,’ Thaletas said, turning away; but he had got no more than a step or two when he saw a Spartan messenger coming towards them. He stiffened, and turning back, saw Alexios stand, eyeing the man savagely, the line of his jaw set.  
Thaletas stopped the messenger before he could approach him, and the young man asked, ‘Are you Alexios of Sparta?’  
‘Yes. What do you want?’  
The man handed him a skytale. ‘From King Agis,’ he said. ‘No reply required.’ He turned on his heel and went away again.  
Thaletas turned to look at Alexios, who’d sat down once more, and was broodingly staring at the hut opposite. ‘Do you want to read it, or should I?’  
Alexios growled, ‘We both know what it says.’  
Thaletas sighed inwardly, and fetched the skytale stick from inside before returning to Alexios. He read the message, feeling his face growing hot. Alexios was watching him, and he made no move when Thaletas said, ‘King Agis demands that you do what you have been ordered to do. Specifically, he says, “Stop pretending that you don’t know where Alcibiades is, and carry out the assassination that your country and your king require of you.”’  
Alexios said nothing, though his face was eloquent enough – stubborn resistance.  
Thaletas frowned. ‘You can’t ignore this Alexios, or you’ll never be able to go home to Sparta again.’  
Alexios’ face didn’t change, but his voice was quieter. ‘I never will. I already told you that.’  
He felt his frustration rising. ‘Just for the sake of Alcibiades?’  
Alexios looked at him then with a kind of question on his face, though Thaletas didn’t know what. His voice was flat and quiet. ‘No - because I’m not a weapon, to be used at will. I won’t do it anymore.’  
Thaletas sighed, and handed him the skytale. He felt and probably sounded fed-up, as he said, ‘I have to go – I can’t be late.’  
As Thaletas walked away, he heard him say, ‘Do what you have to do.’  
I always fucking do, he thought; but he didn’t bother saying it aloud.

A few days later, Thaletas was climbing slowly up the hill towards the fisherman’s cottage as the golden sun was setting, casting long black shadows. He’d been down to the harbour to buy fish for their evening meal. He looked down at the silvery scales of the snapper flashing in the basket he carried, then up to the house where he had left Alexios sleeping.  
There had been a shift in things, despite no noticeable change in Alexios’ day-to-day behaviour. He still went hunting sometimes, still went down to the sea, still didn’t offer to help with the contracts; but… late on the night after the messenger had been, he’d slipped into bed with Thaletas, and gently nestled his face in his hair, resting his hand on his hip. There had been no more to it than that; Alexios had just fallen asleep, leaving Thaletas with his heart racing, afraid that if he made any move, it would drive him away again…  
… but he’d also felt the first stirring of hope that something was changing at last.  
Alexios hadn’t even pretended he would go back to sleeping in the other bed since. Each night, without a word, he’d settle himself against Thaletas’ back, wrapping his arm around him, even once hazarding a kiss on his neck. 

As Thaletas reached the hut, he saw that Arion had come to see Alexios. The young, handsome mercenary was telling a story with his back to the alleyway, while Alexios, seated in his usual place under the tree at end of the house, saw Thaletas coming. He was smiling slightly at Arion’s story, but when his eyes shifted to Thaletas, there was a warmth in them which Thaletas had almost forgotten. He felt as though a thousand butterflies had sprung to life in his stomach.  
Arion was in full spate of storytelling, gesturing wildly. In his worst imitation of the leader of Messenia, soon to be his father-in-law, which was as high pitched as he could make his voice go, he said, ‘”Surely, Arion, you must see that Leila must have everything just as she wants it, forever. You must never argue with her.”’  
Arion noted Alexios’ shifted attention and turned, seeing Thaletas. He grinned. ‘Here he is.’  
Thaletas smiled and greeted the younger man, before saying, ‘It’s been too long since we saw you, Arion. Where have you been?’  
He rolled his eyes. ‘Leila’s pater sent me to Phokis to get the Pythia’s approval of the marriage.’  
Thaletas raised one eyebrow. ‘I suppose Apollo obliged you?’  
Arion grinned. ‘He did – though, even had he not, I shouldn’t have told Leila that.’  
Thaletas smiled and shook his head. ‘Will you stay for dinner? We have enough if you want to.’  
‘Thank you but no; I can’t stay tonight. Leila’s expecting me – and her pater.’  
Thaletas said jokingly, ‘How flattering you came to see us first!’  
Arion laughed. ‘Only because you’re on the way,’ he said with a wink. ‘I’ll come again tomorrow night, if you’ll be here?’  
‘We will.’  
When they’d said goodbye, and the young misthios had jogged away down the road, Thaletas set about lighting a small enclosed oven which was built against the outside of the hut. Thaletas set a pot on the flames, add a handful of vegetables and lastly the fish, cut into neat squares.  
Thaletas sat back on his heels. He’d expected Alexios to go back inside, but he’d remained where he was, sitting under the tree in the growing dark. Thaletas glanced at him, and noticed that he had been watching him, the same warmth in his eyes that had been there earlier.  
Alexios said, ‘Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.’  
Thaletas smiled, but hesitated, afraid of saying something wrong, but knowing he couldn’t say nothing at all. He offered quietly, ‘Well – you did save my life on Lemnos, so there’s that.’  
Alexios leant back then, and looked up at the sky, the stars beginning to appear. He looked more thoughtful than anything, and after a moment, he said, ‘Still – I’ve put you through a lot in the last few years.’  
‘Nothing I didn’t get myself into willingly,’ Thaletas said carefully, prodding at the fire to keep it burning brightly. ‘And nothing I wouldn’t do all over again if I had the choice.’ He looked up at Alexios, and their eyes met again.  
Alexios acknowledged this with a slow nod, a slight smile tilting his lips for a moment; but a thought seemed to cross his face, and the smile faded. He stood. ‘I’ll go fetch more wood before it gets dark.’  
He disappeared into the alleyway, leaving Thaletas to look into the fire, feeling hopeful, but also puzzled. He knew that there was something more that Alexios hadn’t said; he wondered what it was, though he could only wait to find out, and be grateful that at least those first tentative rays of hope hadn’t been unfounded.

The following day, Alexios was coming home from hunting. Another few rain showers had come, and while they hadn’t yet relieved the feeling of intense dryness in the hills above Kydonia, they had served to swell the rivers and streams that tipped down from the mountains, and the banks were at last showing the first tinges of returning greenness.  
Kydonia was bathed in rich golden light. Alexios looked up now and then as he walked, to the islands north of Crete, and beyond them, out of sight, the rest of his life, his family, his entire past. He wondered if he and Thaletas would ever go that way again. He’d been serious when he said he wanted to stay in Crete, beyond the war, beyond Sparta, beyond even the family.  
He passed Ardos’ house, a farmhouse on the outskirts of the town. The mischievous boy he’d met long years before had grown into a family man with a cheerful wife and three noisy young boys – each as bad as their father had been. Two were wrestling in the yard between the house and the farm buildings, while the third shouted encouragement. They paused just long enough to chorus, ‘Chaire, Alexios!’ before continuing the bout.  
He raised a hand to them, then passed along the long rows of olive trees which ran away from the Temple of Athena Diktynna, before cutting through the back alleyways to reach home.  
He opened the door of the simple one room hut, and saw that Thaletas was napping. He’d expected he would be, having left him sleepy-eyed after Thaletas had returned from collecting on another contract.  
Alexios smiled to himself, and quietly pulled the door closed again.  
He set about preparing dinner, wanting to surprise Thaletas with a meal. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done even that… but there was so much he hadn’t been doing for so long now; it was hard to remember now when he had stopped…  
He sighed. The darkness had come for him, and he hadn’t even noticed its arrival. He’d seen so much suffering in his life, and suffered so much himself, that he’d thought that after Chios, he would do as he always had - mourn for a few days, then move on. Why this time had been different he didn’t really know. Perhaps it had been the scale of the loss; perhaps it had been his inability to stop what had happened despite pouring all he was into it; perhaps it was just an accumulation of all the years, all the things, all the loss… A combination of all of that.  
Even now, when he was sure he was getting better, he could still feel the last, cold fingers of it on his shoulder. He’d felt it shift the day the Spartan messenger had come, making demands that he knew he had to reject out of hand; he’d felt it shift again when Thaletas had accepted him back into his bed. It would keep on shifting, now that it had started; and in its place, he began to feel again… love and gratitude, but also a quiet rage.  
He was done being used; done with Agis; done with Sparta. He’d never loved the city, the state; but now he actively hated everything it stood for. The horrors of the war on Chios were, in his opinion, to be placed squarely at Sparta’s door. All those innocent lives lost because of the king’s petty squabbles, their total failure to provide an adequate force of trained men to defend the island. They meddled everywhere, the Spartans, yet did nothing to ensure the safety of those who trusted in their promises.  
He thought nothing more of the Athenians either, though. Their greed was insatiable, their clutch on power in places that so clearly wished for independence was as abominable as anything else. He always thought of Mykalessos. The massacre was Athens’ doing. He remembered vividly the faces of the innocent men, women and children as they fled the city. The waste of it, the horror, the suffering. All that death… and for what? Absolutely nothing. Boeotia remained a Spartan ally; Athens achieved nothing.  
No – he knew it in his bones: he was done with war, done with killing. It was over.  
Yet the question remained: what was Alexios without death? He’d been asking himself that for months, and slowly an idea had begun to form: a vision of a life – a true life, untainted by death; and while he was sure of himself, when he thought about Thaletas, and whether he would be able to share that vision, he wasn’t so sure.  
He loved him, he would always love him, with the kind of love that was as natural as breathing. He knew he would never willingly let him go, but Thaletas was still a Spartan. He would always be loyal to his home, to his people, as his reaction to the message from Agis had served to emphasise.  
He wondered whether Thaletas would accept it, that Alexios would no longer fight for Sparta, or anyone else. He knew that he was waiting for him to come back to himself, but Alexios wasn’t sure if he ever would; and the question remained – would this new version of himself be acceptable to Thaletas?  
He knew that the moment was drawing near when he would ask the question, just as the moment had come when he was ready to draw physically close to him again. The two things were inexplicably entwined.  
He smiled, placing the ingredients into the pot. He’d been lying in bed, listening to Thaletas’ breathing, and with a sudden rush of feeling, he’d just given up denying himself. He’d climbed into bed beside him, and in the purest sense, he felt he’d come home. He’d breathed deeply of Thaletas’ scent. How he’d missed it – missed him: the sweet curve of his neck, the dark hair bristling at his forehead, the familiar, lean shape of him against his chest; and when Thaletas had given a contented sigh and shuffled back against him as he had done a thousand times before, it had been all Alexios could do not to cry.  
He heard the door open, and Thaletas came into view rubbing his face, his hair sticking up crazily. It took him a moment to take in what he was looking at – his eyes shifting from Alexios to the pot and back again.  
‘You’re cooking,’ he said.  
‘It got late.’ He explained, feeling oddly shy. ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’  
He smiled. ‘Thank you.’ He sat on the stool under the tree, and asked, ‘How was the hunting?’  
Alexios shrugged. ‘Not bad. A couple of lynxes and a boar.’  
‘The blacksmith’ll be pleased. He’s been complaining that he needs lynx pelts.’  
Alexios didn’t reply to that. Instead, he tapped the side of the pot with the spoon he was using, and said, ‘This needs to sit for a time. I think I’ll go and wash.’ He met Thaletas’ eyes, an invitation in his. ‘The river beyond the temple is running clear again.’  
Thaletas smiled softly. ‘I’ll come with you. I should have gone before sleep.’

They walked quietly side by side beneath the temple of Athena Diktynna, glowing almost orange in the low slanting light, and then past the rustling coolness of the olive grove beyond it. At the end of the grove, a small river flowed down from the mountains, over a small waterfall, into a pool which then disappeared underground.  
There was no one around; most people at that time of day, after the work of the day was done, would be down at the seafront, swimming, eating, and talking, sharing the sometimes-inconsequential stories or everyday life – a snake killed, an ominous sign the town madman had supposedly seen, the birth of a baby. The children would be leaping from the jetty; the women gathered together in merry groups; the men discussing hunting or fishing – whichever they preferred.  
The pool was deserted, the water inky dark, the soft roar of the waterfall tumbling over the rocks. Thaletas and Alexios took off their shoes and tunics and entered the coolness of the water, the cold of it sharp and pleasant after the heat of the day.  
Alexios waded over to the waterfall, standing beneath the tumbling water, his face tilted back, before gasping and shaking his head and sinking back into the pool.  
When Alexios had begun denying him, Thaletas had found himself watching him from the corner of his eye. He began to notice things, a whole world of details he had never noticed before which endeared Alexios to him even more, though his frustrated desires at such times had driven him near crazy: the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which came so rarely now; the dexterity of his fingers when he was repairing the nets he used to fish sometimes; the faint scar in the shape of a smile on his collarbone that never tanned; and a new concentration he had for the small tasks. As he watched, the way Alexios scrubbed at his skin in slow circles, as though each circle was some intricate movement that required thought, made him begin to harden. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t do it.  
Alexios at first pretended not to notice Thaletas watching him; but then he slowly looked up, a smile playing softly on his lips. Their eyes met and held. Thaletas felt his heart rate increase as Alexios moved towards him, half swimming, half walking, until they faced each other, very near now.  
As he slipped his hands across Thaletas’ skin beneath the water, he said softly, ‘Thaletas.’  
Thaletas’ emotions were reeling, tumbling need fogging his brain. ‘Alexios,’ he breathed, their lips so close together, he could feel the heat of Alexios’ breath against his own.  
The kiss was gentle, but insistent; tender, but demanding. Thaletas gripped Alexios’ hips, holding himself against the hard body. His need was met with powerful return; their mouths joined, their hands grasping one another, each feeling the shape of the other, so familiar and loved.  
Thaletas, ever responsible, mumbled against his mouth breathlessly, ‘Not here,’ but Alexios paid no attention, now kissing and biting at the nape of his neck, hands under the water caressing his thighs, working teasingly upwards as he pushed him slowly towards the rocky edge of the pool.  
‘Why not?’ he mumbled, his voice almost unrecognisable, so thick with his desire.  
Thaletas with great effort extracted himself from his embrace.  
‘Come home with me,’ he said hoarsely.  
They went.

They made love, brutally at first, filled with all the suppressed longing and desire, the passionate ache of it… but then there came the satisfaction of pure sensation, the touching, tasting, losing themselves in each other… spent, but neither willing to let go of the other. Despite the sweat and the heat and exhaustion, they continued to kiss and hold each other… they slept and made love again; the night passed and the morning came, and still they remained where they were, exhausted and hungry, but unwilling to break the spell, unwilling to move. 

Just after dawn, a heavy rain curtain swept across the town, and amid the rich, sweet scent of rain on the dry earth, Alexios found his voice.  
They were lying face to face, their legs entwined, both dozy but awake. He put a hand up to Thaletas’ face, running a thumb gently along his jawline, across the beautiful lips. ‘I have to tell you something.’  
Thaletas asked burrily, ‘What is it?’  
He said, ‘You should know, I’ll never be Alexios again.’  
Frowning slightly, Thaletas asked, ‘What do you mean?’  
‘I won’t fight anymore. Not for Sparta. Not for Athens. Not for money.’  
Thaletas considered this. He realised these were the words which had been hovering in the background for the past few days. He said gently, ‘You’ll still be Alexios.’  
‘Will I?’ he said sadly. ‘I’m not sure about that.’  
Thaletas smiled softly, and kissed him before he said, ‘What are we going to do instead?’  
He said, ‘I will live a simple life. Ardos will teach me how to farm. I’ll keep goats.’  
For a long moment, Thaletas looked at him, letting him take his time with what he had to say.  
Alexios continued, withdrawing from him slightly. ‘I see you hesitating, and I know what you’re thinking. You’ll not want me when I am not the Eagle Bearer, just some farmer in a small…’  
Thaletas placed a hand up to his lips then, shaking his head.  
‘Stop,’ he said gently. ‘I wasn’t hesitating. I was giving you time to say whatever you needed to. I have always loved you for who you are, Alexios; not for what you do in the world. Why should I care if you’re a farmer, rather than a misthios?’ The lump in his throat made his voice strange. ‘I will love you just the same. I only want you to be happy, to feel hope again. If you tell me you cannot fight anymore, then you cannot.’  
He almost whispered, ‘Are you sure?’  
‘Of course I’m sure,’ he said huskily, kissing him again, tasting salt.

For a long time after that they simply held each other… but after, they started to talk about the future, as once, years before, they had imagined Stymphalos.  
By degrees, it became a vision, a series of tomorrows that would be their future life.  
Long days of hard work perhaps, but long nights entwined in one another.  
Peace.  
Quiet… and the making of their own, sometimes-inconsequential, stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:
> 
> Apologies for the long delay in getting this Epilogue written and posted. I went back and forth for a long time about how to write it, if I should write it, but yay, it is now done!  
> I hope you enjoy this image of the sometimes-inconsequential future of our two favourite Spartans. If anyone deserves it, they do.
> 
> Thanks are due in particular to Myriath; without your help and encouragement, this would probably never have got written; but also, thanks to everyone for reading. I had never expected these stories to get any readers at all. I appreciate you all :)  
> Jenn/Harper.


End file.
